The Clock Tower
by SarentoKensei
Summary: Four orphans - Toris, Feliks, Ravis, and Eduard - think they are on their way to heaven when they hear they've been adopted by a very rich man. However, Mr Jones doesn't seem to be home, and the house may be more sinister than it appeared. One ends up dead and a offer is given to Toris, that might just insure his survival, but is his life worth the price of others?
1. Chapter 1

**Hai! This beginning of this story is a direct reference to the most epic game made by Human Entertainment, Clock Tower. A rather hidden gem to the horror franchise, in my honest to goddess opinion. It revolves around in a orphaned girl named Jennifer Simpson(Toris, Lithuania) Her best friend, Lotte(Feliks, Poland), Laura(Eduard, Estonia) and Ann(Raivis, Latvia), who are adopted by this mysterious man named Mr. Barrows(Alfred F. Jones, America). The orphanage matron, Ms. Mary(Yekatarina Braginskaya, Ukraine) takes them to Barrows mansion, takes them inside, and goes to find Mr. Barrows. Then the player gains control and you talk to the girls for a bit. Finally, Lotte offers to go look for Ms. Mary and Jennifer, the player, offers to do it instead. Inserting some cliché horror, terrified scream, missing characters and a dark room, you eventually run into a nine year old boy named Bobby, or as he is more infamously known for, Scissorman(Ivan, Russia).**

**I also made them younger, the characters in the game are not this young. Game is also based in Norway, so the story is also.**

**Long bit of background knowledge, I don't own the game or Hetalia**

**Now, I've loved this game since I was eleven. Recently, I made friends with Vanya Heart over fanfiction. Reading her Coriander and Feverfew, or my Frozen Sorrows or To Serve Insanity, we mentioned each other in our stories. So I asked if she would write this fanfiction with me and she agreed~ So half of this story is written by Vanya, the other half by me. (Actually, a bigger majority is written by her ._. haha... I'm not too descriptive...).**

**Long authors note, sorry.**

Raised in the Granite Orphanage, Toris and his friends were wanted as adopted sons.

It happened in September.

"Like, Eduard, hurry up! We want to be there before sunset!" A blond boy, Feliks, around 15, sneered, ushering the slightly darker blond boy, Eduard, who was about 13 to the group. The 11 year old, Raivis, walked in front of them.

"Ms. Braginskaya?" The brown haired boy, Toris, asked.

"Yes" The short haired woman, Yekatarina, who was the orphanage matron, giggled happily, her large chest bouncing joyfully.

"From now on, what kind of place will we be living in?"

"Toris, that's the fifth time you've asked!" She giggled once more. "Don't worry; it's a very nice place." Toris smiled at her words. He and was glad to get out of that dreadful orphanage, and his friends got adopted along with him! He couldn't be happier. Eduard and Raivis were rather close, and he and Feliks were great friends. The man who adopted them, Mr. Jones, sounded very nice...and rich!

"We're almost there." Ms. Braginskaya pointed to a house in the distance. "See?"

The house was huge! They were half a mile away and they could see the house clear as day. One notable thing, was that the house had a Clock Tower.

The house was a pale, pasty white, but living in England, it was a general style. The house was accented with a chocolate brown. Toris and the boys were brimming with excitement; they could not wait to meet their new father.

The whole time they make their decent towards the house, Toris' eyes remained glued upon the clock tower. He did not know why, not for sure, but the thing fascinated him for some reason; he wondered, vaguely, if it still worked...then again the house did appear very old, so it was probably unlikely.

"Yo, Toris," Feliks' voice rang shrilly in his ear. "Stop staring all creepily at the clock tower, it's like, not cool." Feliks' mouth was drawn up into a pout as he stared at his friend, and his yellow eyebrows were pressed down on his forehead, which was shiny a bit, damp from perspiration. Toris smiled at his friend, causing Feliks to blanch and step back into his state devoid of seriousness. "Ahaha not that I'm scared of the place, no, not at all!" He peeped, flipping his silky blonde hair out of his face in a girlish way. "It's just, uh, rude to stare, broski!"

Reluctant, Toris tore his eyes from the clock tower. "Yeah..." He muttered, not sure what else to say. He was in a very strange mood - excited, yet nervous - and his feeling were so mixed up, he didn't know how he should feel. "D-do you think Mister Jones will like us?" He asked out of the blue, biting into his lower lip. He regretted asking immediately, feeling like he had asked a stupid question.

"I'm sure he's a nice man." Eduard spoke up from beside them, as during their conversation, he had casually crept up to their pace. "He must be really lonely, you know, living all alone up here, without any sons, or daughters, or a wife..."

"Holy crap! Are you saying that, he's like, a pedophile!?" Feliks exclaimed, clasping his hands on either side of his face in mortification. "Oh my gosh, I...I already have trouble with people as it is! Bros, I can't live with a pedophile!"

"Boys!" The sound of Ms. Braginskaya's voice brought all three of them from their disturbing fantasies. They all looked at her, surprised, for she never spoke very loudly or demandingly, but upon sight of her smiling merrily as usual, everyone calmed. "Please, behave yourselves," She told them with a friendly tilt of her head. "Feliks." She told him specifically, although the boy was paying more attention to her oversized breasts than to her face.

Toris spoke up for his friend. "Yes, Ms. Braginskaya." He murmured politely, dipping his head towards her. "I'm sorry, we're just nervous."

A light seemed to touch the woman's eyes, and creep across her countenance, lighting her up like a star, and giving the children strength. "I know." She said softly, giving Toris a timid pat on the head. "It's okay."

Raivis, who had remained quiet for the majority of the whole journey, finally spoke, "Hey," He turned towards everyone, as he had been walking ahead, with his deep blue eyes glimmering. "We're here." He squeaked, excitement apparent in his voice. "We're at our new home!"

Ms. Braginskaya pulled a quirky smile. "Yes, you are." She giggled, floundering past the lot of them, her giant chest bouncing rhythmically as she did so. Stepping up to the door, she paused, and inhaled deeply, as if she too was a bit scared. "I'm sure Mister Jones will be delighted to see you." She chirped, but then looked to the side, and her gaze grew slightly sorrowful. "Although...I am not so delighted to see you go..." Sighing, Ms. Braginskaya and the four boys waited patiently. After what seemed like forever, Ms. Braginskaya jumped up, her breasts jumping along with her.

"I forgot~ Mr. Jones said we could go right in! Oh, silly me!" She opened up the door, and the boys were overcome with awe.

"What a huge place..." Eduard said softly, his eyes staring at how high the ceiling was, and the assortment of chandeliers.

"Yeah!" Raivis said, the young boys face was lit up with pure excitement. "The main halls gigantic!"

At a small table, Raivis and Eduard sat down, their backs straight and heads high, showing how respectable and well mannered they were.

Feliks, on the other hand, was leaning against a shelving unit with his hands in his pockets. Toris followed behind Ms. Braginskaya like a good kid.

"I must go get Mr. Jones so you boys can meet him! You all wait here." She said joyfully, before walking out the room in the door at the end of the main hall.

Toris then stood, rather awkwardly in the middle of the room. Once Ms. Braginskaya was had left, he turned to Raivis.

"Um, Raivis?" Toris said, knowing he sounded nervous.

"You want to know what Mr. Jones is like, right?" Raivis quickly said, it was as if the eleven year old read his mind.

"Yeah..." Toris mumbled. The boy was rather blunt, and the eldest boy stared at the youngest, expecting for him to continue whatever he was going to say. Strangely, the boy shuffled in his seat, and never continued. Toris then turned to Eduard.

"What is it...?" Eduard raised his eyebrows, asking Toris before the latter asked anything.

"Is something wrong?" Toris asked, concerned for the well being of his friend.

"T-this house makes me uneasy..." he said, then continuing to stare off into the distance. Toris decided that the two youngest were probably just really nervous, and then turned to his best friend, Feliks.

"I doubt I'll ever get used to this place." Feliks flipped his hair, it becoming somewhat of a habit after staying up past bedtime, watching all those sorority lives of those rich girls. Toris just responded with a confused look.

"Heh, Feliks is paranoid." Raivis chuckled, being as blunt and rude as ever. Feliks, on the other hand, fell silent. Toris knew something was wrong. He then noted that Ms. Braginskaya has yet to come back with Mr. Jones.

Raivis seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he then asked;

"Hey, can you go find Ms. Braginskaya?" Toris was asked. An uneasy feeling made his stomach hurt.

"Y-yeah. What _did_ happen to Ms. Braginskaya?" Eduard pushed his glasses up, he looked very distraught. "Is she okay?"

"Braginskaya ...she really is taking a long time. Should... should I, like, go find her? She's so easily distracted, and what if Mr. Jones is trying something on her!" Feliks placed his hand on his forehead dramatically, fanning himself with the other. Toris sighed; he knew he was the bravest, and eldest out of the four. He would go find Ms. Braginskaya.

"Ne, I'll go look for her." He said, turning to the door she exited from. Leaving the bright yellow room, he walked into a dark, grey hall. Which had a truly eerie atmosphere. A room that had no door, possibly another hall, it was too dark to look down, was at his left, and a room with a mahogany door at the end. A single window was in that hall.

Taking a few steps in the room, he walked about halfway through before he heard a scream, probably Feliks, of terror.

"The main hall..." Toris muttered to himself. He turned to head back. Fear running down his spine as the curtains made a terrifying 'whoosh' noises and began shaking on their own, despite the window being shut. He quickly ran back to the main hall.

A chill wracked Toris' spine as he entered the main hall. Everything was dark, as if someone had abruptly turned off the lights, and the whole of the room seemed to be colder than it had before. "G-guys..." Toris began, his eyes flickering around the place, worried. Once more, he shivered, fear coursing through his veins like cold ice and pounding into his heart...but then he remembered that the girlish scream he had heard belonged to Feliks, who was one who loved to played pranks.

Being in no mood to play Feliks' games, as they were in a strange house, getting ready to meet their adopted father, Toris put his hands on his hips and called, "Come on, guys, this isn't funny!" As he walked further into the room, he realized that Raivis and Eduard must be playing along with the prank as well, because the little silver-cushioned chairs they had been sitting in were empty. Strange... He thought to himself, rubbing his hands together nervously. Raivis and Eduard aren't usually one to participate in such things...

"This is no time to be fooling around." He scolding, trying to keep from panicking - it was silly that he was panicking; nothing was going to harm him here! Letting out a sigh to release tension, Toris turned and paced the dark walls of the room. The normally light brown walls seemed gray, and menacing, and the fancy portraits of a strange man seemed demonic and enticing. _I wonder if that is Mister Jones_. Toris wandered absentmindedly.

After a bit of wandering, his fingers bumped into the light switch on the wall. Strangely, Feliks had not jumped out and scared him yet. _I would have thought he would have tried before I found the light switch. _Trembling ever-so-slightly now, Toris flipped the light switch on. The illuminated room provided no menacing feelings, unlike the unlit one had moments before. "Feliks...?" Toris mumbled aloud, scouring the room with raised eyebrows. After glancing around for a bit, he realized his friends were not there! _Ah, I see. They're trying to pull off a scary-movie scenario, so that I'll think they disappeared and died or something._ A snort of amusement escaped his nostrils, and he gave a small, disapproving smile. If this was any other day, he may have played along, but today they were meeting Mister Jones. It was too important of a day to be playing around!

"I see you are all going to be immature," He told the seemingly-empty room, forcing his mouth into a stern straight line. "I'm going to go after Ms. Braginskaya." Figuring they would follow him, Toris stepped out of the main hall, and back into the eerie hallway he had been in before.

He took a few steps, and then he looked back, expecting Feliks to come bursting from the room at any moment, and hug him like a despairing child...but no one came. Even logical Eduard, who would have clearly seen and respected Toris' intentions, did not appear. Frightened Raivis did not show his head either. It was then that Toris began to get a bad feeling inside his stomach, like a thousand black snakes coiling around each other in a pot of hot water. Perspiration formed upon his brow, and he quickly wiped it away with his hand. M-maybe they went to the restroom. He told himself. Y-yes, later...when I come back from finding Ms. Braginskaya, I'm sure they'll be there.

Gathering courage, Toris made his way down the dark hallway. The door less room seemed to gape at him ominously, and when he passed the window, something bright flashed behind the pane for a moment. "G-Ah!" He gasped, sure he had seen a pair of eyes...but when he walked over and pressed his fingers to the chilling pane, and peered out, the only thing that greeted him was darkness. "H-hah. I'm just being silly." He laughed uncertainly, pulling away from the window and resuming his trudge down the hall. He reached the mahogany door again, and opened it without hesitation, though his hands were shaking and made his movement jerky. "Hello?" He whispered softly to the new hallway that greeted him, but no one replied.

A large candle was hung from the wall, towards the top of it, burning timidly through the shadows. Beneath its golden yellow light, Toris spotted another door, which was slightly mahogany-colored as well, except with a silver handle. _There are many rooms in this house. _He thought over, tapping his fingers against his side repetitively. _I should check them all_. Taking in a deep breath, he approached the door, and slowly, carefully, opened it up and stepped inside.

The room was pitch black, and Toris had to navigate around for a bit, slipping his hands along the wall. "Where's the light switch...?" He asked aloud, a bit irritated that so little of the house seemed to be actually lit. When he found it, and turned it on, he was greeted by a textured brown room, with a bright, intricate crystal chandelier hanging above him. Elegant, grayish blue couches lounged in the center, atop an appealing ruby rug. "What a lovely room-" Toris began, but then he noticed the rather...gross looking painting in the corner of the room. The thing depicted large, mutated gray and black faces, screaming at him with obsidian, soulless eyes. "Agh..." They made Toris quiver.

On top of a bookshelf in the corner, Toris noticed there was a box. For some reason, he felt drawn to it, as if there was something mysterious about it, although it was nothing but plain wood._Besides, it's rude to be nosy..._ He reasoned, turning away from the box. There were no people in the room, so, he had best just go out, and continue his search. However, as he reached for the door handle, the wooden box seemed to be beckoning to him, and he couldn't help but feel as if, whatever the box contained, may be vital, somehow. But vital to what? He wondered, pulling his hand away from the door handle. Maybe...just one look inside the box...won't hurt... Slowly, he walked towards it, eyes glistening with temptation.

Toris reached up to the box and grabbed it. Opening it, he found a disturbing looking statue. A demonic aura glowed from it, causing Toris to want to throw it to the ground and flee the room. Just find Ms. Braginskaya and his friends. But something about that statue caused him to stuff it in one of his large pockets in his green coat, he had four after all. He put the box back up on the shelf and backed away. Feeling guilty, he looked at his feet. He then looked back up at the disturbing picture that looked like screaming faces. Taking a closer look at it, his spine racked with chills. He backed up slowly, as if the creatures inside would come to life and attack him.

Suddenly, blood spilled from the paintings eyes. Toris became startled and screamed. He fell on his rump and crawled franticly to his feet and sprinted out of the room. But he went out the door on the left side instead of the door he originally left out of.

He entered a bedroom, and began to calm himself now that he left the bedroom with the crying painting. The room had two beds, one was with yellow sheets, on the right the other had a silky red blanket with golden accents near the bottom. It was apparent the left bed wasn't used. Beneath the two beds were a blue carpet and a cherry wood floor. A vanity set was on the left side of the room; on the right was a table with a bird inside.

Toris inspected he vanity set, he knew he shouldn't, and should go back to the main hall, sure that his friends and Ms. Braginskaya were back by now and waiting for him. Looking at the set however, he saw a cracked picture and two hideously deformed children. They reminded him of...demons. He quickly put the photo down. He glanced down, and saw a bottle of perfume. Woman's perfume always smelt so nice to him, he decided to spray it and take a whiff of the scent. Doing so, he was overcome with shock.

_"It smells like Ms. Braginskaya's..."_

Why would Ms. Braginskaya's perfume be in this mansion? Mr. Jones lived alone, right? Why would a bottle of perfume that smelt just like Ms. Braginskaya's be in this mansion?

Something wasn't right. He pocketed the perfume, planning to ask the matron later when he saw her.

He looked into the mirror, sure he was a mess. He panicked rather badly in that other room, his hair was a mess. He leaned closer to the mirror, where his image suddenly drew a sadistic grin and reached out and grabbed his throat, choking him. He gasped and tried to cry out. He grabbed the mirror version of him wrist and dug his nails into it, pulling franticly away. The hand finally retracted and went back into the mirror. Toris eyes widened with fear, and he backed from the mirror slowly and left the room, going back the way he came, ignoring the Macaw in the room. He quickly walked through the room with the creepy picture, ignoring it the best he could. He couldn't help but catch a glance at it, and felt panic rack over him when he looked at it again, and saw the blood wasn't his imagination, and it was still there.

He went back into the short hall and chose to go into the room with no door. Upon entering the dark room, he saw that the room was a mess; part of the hall had collapsed. He looked outside one of the dusty windows and saw a shed and pool. A huge crack was in the wall. Toris bent over and looked out of it. It was thin and weak and breakable. Toris looked at the collapsed part of the hall and saw a perfect rock to break the weak part of the hall. He climbed up the rubble, wincing at the dirt he was getting on his knees.

"Just a pile of trash, wood and concrete." He muttered to himself.

He grabbed the rock and slid down the hill on his rump, once he got on the ground; he took the rock, possibly just concrete, but same difference, and threw it at the wall. The wall broke easily and created a hole wide enough for him to crawl through. He chucked the rock back to pile and crawled through the hole.

Toris emerged from the rubble hole in the wall into a dark and sinister-looking courtyard. The sun had fallen in the sky, and the moon cast an eerie, silver glow about everything. Dark pine trees swayed in the gentle breeze beside blackened windows, their twisted branches beckoning to Toris like strangers tempting children. What was this place? Toris wondered absentmindedly, straightening up upon the dying grass he stood on. Further on, the grass dissipated and connected into concrete. _'Is that a pool?'_

Squinting, Toris cautiously made his way forwards. He was still in shock after witnessing the bleeding painting, and feeling the cold, scabby hands of his mirror-self upon him. 'It must be Mister Jones' fault,' He figured as he inched his way along, alert for even the slightest noise. 'He must really be a bad person...he's trying to hurt us!' Shuddering, Toris put his hands into his pockets. What if Mister Jones had killed his friends? What of he'd killed Miss Braginskaya? The tar-colored water of the pool only glistened in response, and rippled slightly. Toris marveled at how large and long the thing actually was.

"AAAAAAAAAH!" A gasping scream suddenly sliced open the night air, causing Toris to jump backwards in terror. His heart leapt inside his chest, and he felt it pushing blood in and out like a mad-man. "Aaa-!" The scream came again, but this time it was cut off.

"Hello?! Who's there?" Toris squeaked, dashing towards the familiar noise. Up ahead, he noticed bubbles rising from the water in the deep end of the pool. "Hello?!" He called out again, stopping at the end of the concrete to peer into its murky depths.

For a moment, the bubbles stopped, and the courtyard was returned to its awful, evil silence. 'Was I imagining things?' Toris asked himself, wondering if he might be going insane...but then he saw a shape moving beneath the surface of the black liquid, and a head burst to the surface.

"Aaah!" The person in the water cried, shaking his light brownish blonde hair that was plastered wetly to his head. There were red rings beneath his eyes, and his face was a pasty color of white. "T-Toris...Toris help me!" He sobbed, shaking all over and flailing his arms about in a despairing way. It was Raivis.

"R-Raivis!" The word flew from Toris' lips; he was shocked, stunned in place, and his mouth hung agape as he stated in absolute mortification at his young friend. What was he doing? Couldn't he swim?! Toris felt overcome with confusion.

"TORIS!" Raivis shrieked, sounding much like the dying scream of a lamb who was being slaughtered. Not a moment too soon after speaking, the boy disappeared beneath the water, as if pulled by some unseen force. His dripping, white hands flailed desperately above his head as he fought to push himself back to the surface.

Falling to his knees, Toris let out a whimper. Hot tears came into his damp, emerald eyes. 'W-what do I do?!' he asked himself. "Rai...vis..." He gulped, staring towards the hands flailing above the depths. Raivis' head broke the surface once more, and he cast one last look of hopefulness towards Toris.

But Toris couldn't swim.

"Grab my hand!" He commanded the struggling boy, stretching his arm out to him. If Raivis could just move a little closer, he could pull him to the edge... He stretched his arm out further, the muscles straining, wishing he were taller so that his limbs would be longer...

A look of complete grief crept over Raivis' face, and the light seemed to leave his bright blue eyes. "But Toris..." He whispered hoarsely, tears streaming from his chlorine-infected eyes. "Save...me..." He stopped thrashing, and a second later, he was jerked beneath the water.

"RAIVIS!" Toris screamed in horror and awe, watching the water bubble and splash around. He stared at it dumbly, not knowing what to do. He couldn't dive under, he would drown them both, but he must be a villain and a coward to let poor Raivis die... The bubbles stopped, and the water grew still, along with Toris' heart. "Raivis..." He whined, trauma taking over him. He couldn't even see the child's body floating in those black waters, yet he somehow was sure he was dead. Suddenly, his knees felt weak.

A grey hand shot out of the water and clawed the air near Toris' own. "Raivis!" He yelped, snatching the hand tightly and dragging it towards him. Maybe he did have a chance at saving his friend! However, as he gripped the freezing, calloused hand, he realized...this hand was bigger than Raivis'...and the nails were sharpened like claws. "A-ah!" Toris dropped the hand into the water and jumped backwards, falling upon his rump on the hard, shining concrete.

The foreign hand gripped the edge of the pool, and was soon followed by another. _'Oh god no, oh god no...'_ Toris felt sick to his stomach, and almost threw up all over himself from nervousness._'I'm going to die._' He thought as something dark and demonic began to emerge dripping from the water. Toris shut his eyes. He didn't want to see this...thing, when it killed him.

The sound of heavy breathing arose from the pool, and something launched itself onto the ground, not a foot away from Toris. _'Just kill me quickly!'_ Toris was about to say, but then, he thought something... This thing killed Raivis.

Upon the thought of his friend's demise, Toris opened his sharp jade eyes to the night. _Vengeance._ No, he would LIVE. There was no way he would give this monster the satisfaction of murdering two in one night, at one place. However, having no weapon to speak of, Toris figured for now he had better run!

Just as he was attempting to push himself to his feet, the thing fell upon him, or rather, leaped upon him. "Heh heh..." It giggled, tilting it's head to the side. Half of its face was concealed within a sopping, pinkish colored scarf.

Screaming, as no words would come to him at the moment, Toris squirmed beneath it. The creature appeared to be a person - a man - but it's face was slightly twisted, as if it had gone through some terrible torture or...been born with some horrifying deformity.

"NOOOO!" Toris wailed, becoming paralyzed with fear upon the sight of the creature's inhuman, lavender eyes.

In response, the monster laughed. "Why did you...stop...holding my hand?" He asked, in a way that hinted he had trouble speaking. He had a very strange voice that sounded just like a child's, although there was nothing childish about him. No mercy played upon his face, and it was obvious that he saw this as some sort of a game.

"Let me go." Toris hissed meekly, quivering beneath the demon that was sitting heavily upon his legs.

Instead of responding, the creature only smiled, flashing Toris its sharp, pointed teeth. Then it leaned to the side, taking more than half of its weight off Toris, and slid its hand along the ground... Toris' eyes widened when he saw what the creature was groping for - a huge pair of scissors, so long they could go around a man's neck.

"Hehe~ I like you!" The man-child giggled. "You don't want to die like that silly guy there, da?" The man with the scissors spread them open and placed the blades around Toris' neck and brought them close together, almost to a close. Toris cried out in fear, fear of death.

"Ne! Please! Don't kill me!" Toris cried, tears flowed down his porcelain cheeks, imagining how fragile he must look underneath those giant scissors.

"I won't kill you, if you promise to be my slave forever and ever~ If you decline..." The man's face darkened. "Then I will chop your pretty little head off right here. It will be so easy to, but such a waste... You just have to help me kill for my little sister Natalia... she likes to eat the body's of people! It helps with her deformity, which is worse than my own. She's gonna become really really pretty one day! After she eats enough people~" The man giggled once more.

"So, do you promise?" He asked once more.

"I don't want to die..." Toris said softly.

"Give me a straight answer or..." The scissor wielding man closed the blades ever so slightly, enough to chop Toris hair, showing how sharp they were.

"Y-yes! I agree! J-just don't kill me, whoever you are!" Toris sobbed, the man pulled back the scissors, resting them on the brunettes chest.

"Ah~! Really? Then I'll just have to hide you from mommy~ I'm Ivan, by the way. I think I'll call you... Maneken. Alright Maneken?" Ivan giggled, before climbing off of Toris, allowing the said man to get up.

"But my name is-"

"I don't care, Maneken. It means 'Dummy' in Russian, because you're a big dummy~ Now come, Maneken. I'm gonna show you my room! It's going to be your room now too~" Ivan grabbed Toris wrist, yanking him upwards, and dragging him to the side of the courtyard he has yet to go, pushing a box out of the doors way, and walking back into the mansion.

**There we go!**

**Since I ended/began it, Vanya, you get to write the beginning to the next chapter~**

**Neeky-Chan, if you read this, think of a better title and description, and I'll bake you a cake.**


	2. Chapter 2

**The name, Maneken, was meant to be similar to Manikin, to show that Toris has no will, is controlled, (As Neeky-Chan put it) corruption, a puppet, and no mind of himself, thus, **_**a doll.**_

"Mommy loves Natalia..." Ivan was ranting as he pulled Toris by the arm, leading him through bleak hallways and up crooked, aging stairs. Toris wasn't really paying attention, he was too busy trembling, tears still creeping down his face in remembrance to Raivis' demise, and the loss of his own dignity. This whole side of the mansion seemed to be full of wickedness, but maybe it was just because Ivan was here. Still, the shadows on the elegantly designed walls seemed to be reaching for him, ravenously.

They arrived in front of a green door, at the very end of a long hallway. It was upstairs, and there didn't seem to be any other doors in the whole place. Toris watched with exhausted eyes as his captor put his gigantic pair of scissors aside, and pulled a shimmering gold key out of his pocket. Continuing to ramble on about 'Natalia' and 'mommy', he unlocked the door, and then stuffed the key back into his pocket.

"But Maneken will love me more than Natalia," He stated, his voice suddenly clear to Toris upon the mention of his awful nickname. "Da, Maneken?" A chuckle escaped his mouth, which twisted into a demonic smile. "Maneken will love Ivan."

Disgust made Toris take a few steps back. Who could LOVE something as monstrous as him? Still, he reached up, wiped the dripping tears from his face, and whispered, "Yes..." A chill wracked his body afterwards. _'How low have I become...?'_

The door to the room opened up, and Ivan shoved Toris in as if he were a rag doll. "You do not sound very truthful, Maneken." He grumbled, displeased, and shut the door behind him, locking it. When he saw Toris hungrily eyeing the key, he grinned. "You won't escape, Maneken. Only mommy and I have keys." Toris bowed his head, and looked away.

The room was a fairly nice one: the wallpaper depicted a beautiful field of swaying wheat and blossoming sunflowers, and the wall itself seemed beautiful, though the paint was cracked and old. There was a medium-sized chifforobe beside a door that most likely led to the bathroom. On top of the chifforobe sat a delicate white vase with painted pink hearts on it; inside of it sprouted a dozen or so brightly colored buttercups. Next to the vase was what looked to be the remnants of a mirror, but all the glass was missing, like it had been broken in a rage?

After a moment, Toris realized that there was only one bed in the room. Sure, it was a pretty large one, and beautiful at that, with translucent red curtains, and hand-quilted blankets, but he doubted it was for him. "Where...where do I sleep?" He asked timidly, not looking up. His hands folded in front of him, like a child trying to be polite to avoid a scolding.

Instead of answering, Ivan just childishly laughed, and dug his fingers into Toris' hair.

"Your hair is long, da? You should let me cut it! I'll make it look pretty!" Ivan said with his twisted smile, before grabbing his scissors. "Hold still, Maneken, or I'll cut you."

A look of fear crossed Toris eyes as Ivan slowly brought the scissors up to his head. He snipped Toris hair multiple times, before frowning.

"Ivan's not good with hair. Whoopsies~" Ivan shrugged. Toris felt his hair, and with the mirror smashed, he couldn't tell what he looked like, except that his hair was relatively the same length, just shaggier.

"P-please answer my question, Ivan." Toris tried to refrain from stutter to bad, ignoring the fact his hair was just cut poorly.

"Was that an order, Maneken? Bad Maneken. You're my slave, you can't tell me what to do!" Ivan near screamed, causing Toris to quake with fear. Ivan opened up his scissors, grabbing them by the safe part of the blade and sliced Toris' upper arm open.

"Maneken deserved punishment." Ivan said gravely, before grabbing the handles of his scissors, and lazily dragging them behind him as he made his way to the window, placing his hand on the cold glass. He dropped his scissors,, placing the other hand on the window.

"Maneken's going to need a weapon to do his slave work." The man-child said happily, before hitting his head hard on the window. Toris cried out with shock, before slowly backing away in fear. Ivan smashed his head on the wall again.

And again.

And again.

Before the window finally shattered, glass exploding inside and out. Ivan grabbed a big hunk of glass that was still attached to the window, his hand shaking slightly, showing he was trying rather hard to pull the shard off. finally, he removed the shard, and giggled happily.

"Here you go, Maneken!" Ivan tossed the shard of glass. Toris almost failed in catching it, but caught in, in fear of what his new master would do if he dropped it.

"To answer your question, you'll be sleeping in the closet, 'cuz I don't want mommy to find you. Because she'll feed you to Natalia. So..." Ivan once more gripped Toris' hair and shoved him into the closet, which had a folding door. Toris held the glass, shaking over what Ivan just did. 'He smashed the window with his head...and acted like it was nothing.' Toris maneuvered himself to lie down, curling up into a ball and sobbing silently. Ivan shut the closet door and from what Toris could tell, he also climbed into his plush bed.

Toris shivered at the cold, wishing he had a blanket himself. He held his wounded arm, trying to stop the bleeding.

'I wish I was never adopted... I don't want to be this ...psycho's slave...'

Toris didn't know how long he lay away, eyes glazed over, and peering into the pitch darkness. It was freezing. The blood on his arm was a dried, sticky mess, and he kept his opposing hand pressed down upon it, fearing blood loss. When finally he was able to drift into sleep, he dreamed of Raivis.

_The boy was standing beside the pool Ivan had drowned him in, the black water dripping from his clothes. His skin was shriveled like a prune, and devoid of any blood or color. "Toris..." He whimpered when he saw his friend. "Why didn't you save me?" _

_A chill ran through Toris' fragile body, and he retreated a step backwards. "I-I tried," He gulped, despair coating his vocals. "I-I can't swim..." His hands felt slimy, as if they were coated with moss, and he clenched and unclenched them nervously. His feet shifted beneath him. _

_Suddenly Raivis began to bleed. It was as if a great, black hole had been opened in his abdomen, causing rotten crimson liquid to spill out onto the concrete. It crept towards Toris, stretching its dark red fingers out towards him. "Coward." Raivis said, not the least bit unnerved by the sight of his own blood. Soft, grey tears dripped down his cheeks. "You're nothing but a doll." He murmured, and then his body was flung to the ground. Behind him, stood Ivan, grinning like a mad-man. _

_"Oh, Maneken," He crooned sweetly, stretching out his hand...only he had no hand; both of his arms ended in sharpened blades. "Come play with me!" He demanded. _

_"Let's kill the girly one next." _

THUD.

A loud pounding noise awoke Toris from his nightmare. His body was trembling all over, and his hair clung damply to his skin. _'Maybe it was all a dream...' _He wished, but when he glanced down he saw the dried blood on his arm, and the shard of glass he was meant to kill with. _'But I don't want to kill anyone...' _

Outside, he heard voices conversing, and recognized a woman's voice. Curious, Toris pressed his ear to the closet door, trembling slightly and fearing that he would be seen through the small slats. Ivan had said his mother would feed him to Natalia, whoever that was...

"Why did you leave the body in the pool?" A voice asked, icy calm, almost merry...yet still, angry somehow. Someone moved, and the sound of something bouncing slightly echoed throughout the bedroom. A sigh followed the noise, and the woman went on to say, "Do you know how unappetizing a shriveled, bloated, not-fresh corpse is? How _USELESS_?"

Feeling nervous, Toris reached over and grabbed his shard of glass, gripping it close to him. His stomach hurt awfully now, as he waited for Ivan to respond. The woman positively had to be his mother... Fear made Toris' grasp tighten even harder upon the glass, and he barely realized that it was digging into his hand. He bit into his lower lip, trying to ignore it, and listened harder.

A quiet voice responded, "I didn't mean to..." It was obviously Ivan speaking, though he sounded quite distraught, and melancholy. Toris could almost imagine him bowing his head and blushing with shame to some monstrous, mutated demon-woman. A short silence followed, in which Toris' heart pounded quite audibly in his own ears, and then Ivan whined, "It was an accident, mommy..." Even from the closet, he sounded like an awful liar.

_'I hope she burns you.'_ Toris growled at his master, through his thoughts. For some reason he could see Ivan's mother breathing fire...or maybe being Satan herself. _'Maybe YOU deserve a punishment.' _

Toris frowned deeply and rubbed his fingers along his cut, being careful of the glass he was gripping in the darkness.

"I'll be taking care of the stupid girly one. You take care of the old one and the smart one. _Don't mess up this time_." Ivan's mom said, before leaving the room, slamming the door loudly behind her.

'Oh god, that psychos going to come and kill me!' Toris' thoughts became wild and panicked. He pushed himself to the far side of the closet, tears threatening to fall. He nearly had a heart attack when Ivan opened the door.

"C'mon Maneken, we gotta go kill that smart looking one. Mommy's gonna take care of the girly girl one. I'm not gonna kill you though, because your my little Maneken." Ivan motioned for Toris to come out, which he did, fearing punishment once more from Ivan's giant scissors. Toris stood next to Ivan, noting the man-child was taller than him, but might be younger, he really wasn't sure.

Before he could do much to react, Ivan's hand clamped around Toris' own. The man-child's lavender eyes seemed to glitter momentarily, and he smiled, flashing Toris his bright and pointed teeth. "Are you sad?" He asked sarcastically, shoulders shaking slightly as he chuckled, and he reminded Toris of an unhappy child - a bully - trying to express his agony by causing others pain. "How does it feel to have to kill your own friend?" Ivan's head tilted to the side, and his smile morphed into a sneer.

Toris did not respond. Instead, he dipped his head downwards and stared at his shoes. _'Just ignore him..'_ He told himself determinedly. Unfortunately, his plan did not seem like a good one, as Ivan slapped him across the face. The blow left a stinging, red handprint.

Remaining monotonous as Toris winced, Ivan muttered, "Next time respond when your master asks you a question."

"Yes, master." Toris responded bitterly, feeling so degraded he could die. He should have died. He should be resting in a puddle of blood, decapitated beside the pool, next to Raivis. _'But I'm a coward...'_ He sighed audibly.

"How boring you are, Maneken." Ivan grumbled, turning around to fetch his scissors from the wall they had been resting on. Their blades glinted like grey fangs in the moonlight. "After we kill the glasses boy, I'm going to make you entertain me."

The thought of just remaining silent drifted through Toris' mind, but then he remembered the stinging place on his left cheek; his last result of not speaking. "H-how will I entertain you?" He stammered timidly, lower lip shaking. For some reason, he could not meet the eyes of this monstrous man-child.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Ivan brought his face close and giggled, "ANY way I say."

Fear flared up within Toris' chest, and his eyelids fluttered with disdainful thoughts. _'ANYthing...'_ He gulped fearfully. "H-how old a-are y-you, Ivan?" He inquired softly - he had to know. What if Ivan was actually a very childish grown man? He had said he LOVED Toris, in a cruel way, but still, what if he decided to...

The giant pair of scissors scraped against the floor as Ivan moved forwards, and put his hand behind Toris' head. Slowly, he tugged him forwards, so the boy's face was resting against his neck. "Ivan is nine years old." He whispered, biting his ice-cold nose into his captive's hair. His breath tickled Toris' head, and made him tremble ever-so-slightly, uncomfortable. "Does it bother Maneken that Ivan is young?" He asked quietly.

Shaking his head, and feeling Ivan's nose brush against his scalp, Toris replied, "Ne, I like you that way," Then, slightly fearing being cut by those gigantic scissors, he added, "M-master." The sensation of Ivan's lips smiling against his head was apparent before the extremely tall child pulled away.

"Da," Ivan chirped merrily, twirling around and causing his great weapon to make a loud and grating noise against the bedroom floor. Toris noticed that there were a lot of previous scrape marks along the floor from Ivan's scissors. "now, let's go!" Ivan demanded, not too unkindly.

"It's time to kill glasses!" Laughing, he pulled his gold key from his cost, unlocked the door, and then pulled it open. "Hurry, Maneken!" He ushered, patting Toris on the back and shoving him out the door; Toris marveled at how he could be so angry at one point, and then happy the very next. "You better make master Ivan happy."

"Of course..." Toris murmured softly beneath his breath. "I-I'll make Ivan proud, I'm sure." He wasn't sure.

How could he be sure?

Fear racked down his spine. No! H-he couldn't kill Eduard! The thought of killing his friend... he already let one die to preserve his own! He couldn't do it again...

But he didn't want to die either.

"If Maneken fails to make Ivan happy, then I won't kill him. Nyet, that would be easy way out. I will punish him. Until Maneken wishes he was dead. And then I'll make him work twice as hard, so the punishment takes effect over the days. Maneken will always make sure to keep Ivan happy! Ivan is so lonely and sad..." Ivan's face twisted into a sad look, walking down the stairs dragging his long menacing scissors on the floor.

'Maybe he is just misunderstood...' Toris thought, following behind his master obediently. He then trailed his fingers across the wound from his 'punishment' and shook his head. No. Ivan was evil.

"Maneken." Ivan addressed his Toris by his slave name.

"Y-yes master?" He replied politely, hoping it would please the child. It seemed it did, for Ivan's face deformed face twisted into what appeared to be a happy grin.

"Tell me, where would Glasses hide?" Ivan turned his head to Toris, who froze up. 'I can't tell him where Eduard would hide!' He just couldn't. He imagined seeing the look of betrayal as he or Ivan m-murdered him. He couldn't fight this...demonic force. He either had to learn to survive, or die in the process...

However, Toris didn't realize how lost he became in his thought process, only coming to as Ivan's claw like hand snaked their way into Toris' hair, yanking downwards hard. With his demonic strength, and catching Toris off guard, Toris fell to the ground, hitting his head hard and landing with a loud thud.

"ANSWER ME SLAVE!" Ivan screamed, kicking Toris in the gut. Toris cried out with pain, tears falling from his eyes. He shook, hard, trying to form words but unable. But perhaps it was that glint in Ivan's eyes, that hinted murder or maybe torture that caused Toris to answer his master.

"B-bathrooms! H-he would hide in a bathroom!" He cried, a look of fear on his face. _'I just killed Eduard...'_

A slow sneer crossed over Ivan's lips, causing the deformed muscles to twitch and spasm disturbingly. "Stupid Maneken," He snickered, laying the top of his shoe on Toris' ribcage and nudging the boy slightly, back and forth. His pale skin shone like the surface of water, and his pinpoint sharp teeth glinted brighter than diamonds. "You must be a coward, to let all your friends just die." He snorted.

"I-I...I'm not a coward...master." Toris whimpered from the floor, covering his left arm over his face and wishing that he could have learned to just keep his stupid mouth shut. This child was a demon, a menace, and deserved to burn in hell! _'And I'll burn too, for aiding him.' _

"I...I love my friends." Toris stammered gently, shaking with fear of being hurt by the extremely tall child more. Ivan truly was wicked.

A grunt of amusement made its way out of Ivan's throat. "You'll love them more dead." He cackled, removing his boot from Toris' side, then proceeding to reach down and jerk the boy to his feet by his soft light-Hershey colored hair. "I'll cut off Glasses' hands...then I'll stab out his eyes, and stuff them in his mouth..." He grinned widely when Toris blanched and his face twisted with disgust.

"_And then_, you will use your glass shard to slit his throat... Oh, but before, you will lean forwards and whisper in his ear 'I'm so sorry'." Harsh hands clutched Toris' shoulders. "You'll tell him...you'll say you work for monster Ivan now!" He practically screamed.

Flinching, Toris looked away hurriedly, not wanting to peer upon his captor's horribly scarred face. "Yes, master..." He muttered, biting his tongue off and on to keep his nerves under control. "Anything you want." He murmured. It would be better to just agree with everything the child said, right?

Suddenly Ivan's hand fell away from Toris, and the giant boy took a step back, dragging his scissors along with him. "Maneken..." He snarled, voice wavering; the sound of emotion in Ivan's voice caused Toris to raise his head just the slightest.

He caught sight of Ivan running his calloused, slender fingers over his own face, touching every deformity and awfulness that resided there. His eyes were halfway closed, and glistened dully and wet. As if realizing what he was for the first time, Ivan let out a soft whimpering noise. "Maneken..." He gasped again, hand quivering against his cheekbone.

Stepping forwards, pleasure behind his blank countenance, Tori's responded with; "Yes, sir?" 'Yes. Feel yourself and know the monstrosity you are.' Inside he was smiling; on the outside, only his eyes flashed like hot emeralds.

The desperation upon Ivan's face faltered. "STOP IT!" He screeched, body heaving horridly with each breath he forced in and out of his body. Nearing Toris, he raised his wicked, jagged scissors into the air, opening them up and shrieking psychotically. "DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!" He howled, bringing down his scissors at lightning speed.

There wasn't even time to think, or even cry out for that matter. Toris shut his eyes, awaiting the feeling of cool metal against his bare throat, soon sawing through him and snapping his head off. His mouth opened into an 'o' shape, and his whole body stiffened up.

CRASH!

The noise made Toris' bright eyes come snapping back open. Ivan's scissors were lodged snugly within the floorboards before Toris, and the child himself was standing behind them, gasping and panting, with perspiration decking his brow. Toris stated at the scissors with wide eyes. 'He could have killed me.' He marveled, shaking at the thought of it. 'Why didn't he? Does he plan on torturing me?'

Not saying anything, Ivan placed both hands on his scissors, and then, slowly, unsheathed them from the floor. His hands seemed a bit unsteady, but soon his grip became vice like, and his knuckled paled white from his iron grip. Twirling the blades in his hands, the giant man-child gave Toris a weird glance, smirking bitter-sweetly. Then, he turned around and began strolling down the hall. "Come, Maneken." He said flatly. "Let's find the bathroom."

Toris followed reluctantly, chills running up and down his back every now and then. He stared up at the back of Ivan's head, wondering of he could run away now, as the boy wasn't looking. However, it was likely Ivan would catch him anyways. Toris didn't want to suffer through any sort of strange or excessively painful punishment. 'Is Ivan a nine-year-old sadist?' He asked himself. His skin seemed to grow clammy to the thought of that...

Suddenly, Ivan paused. They were in the middle of a hallway; nothing special was in it, it looked just like a normal hallway. "Maneken," Ivan began, glancing over his shoulder slightly. "Walk beside me."

"Yes, master..." Toris responded glumly, almost on cue, darting forwards to stand beside Ivan. The boy did not smile, and just began walking again, with Toris following obediently beside him. The noise of the scissors scraping the floorboards and slicing through the carpets followed them wherever they went.

Moments later, the child started up another conversation.

"Ivan's a demon...demon makes Ivan ugly. Mommy's a Satanist and she preformed bad things when pregnant with me and Natalia. It made us demons, but immortal ones. You can shoot me, beat me, or stab me... Ivan doesn't doubt you thought of killing him with that glass." The child said with sad eyes. "But Ivan can only die to fire, drowning, or getting smashed. Natural causes. And they still take so long... so long to die... to live as a monster forever... that makes Ivan so sad."

Ivan said, continuing to walk down the hall.

"Mommy says no one could ever love me. B-but Maneken will love me, right?" His half deformed face than looked at Toris, a tear glistening down. "Ivan wants someone to be his friend... Ivan has never had a friend."

_'He must be so lonely... it must have driven him to the point of insanity.'_ Toris thought sadly. Ivan turned to a door, and opened it. He walked inside, Toris following behind his master, and it revealed itself to be a bathroom. Chills racked Toris spine, the water was running...

Ivan joyfully picked up his scissors and snipped them.

"Glaaaassessss! I know you are in here, da?" Ivan cheered, rushing into the bathroom. He walked past the sink and opened up the other door that led to the toilet and shower. A terrified scream was let out, causing Toris to drop his glass in such a way it did not shatter.

"Ivan! No!" Toris cried as he ran into the room. Ivan had already cornered Eduard and was near piercing his chest.

"Hmm? Maneken? Do you want to do it?" Then Ivan chuckled. "That's no way to address your master. Are you embarrassed? Perhaps you need punishment..." Ivan turned the normal side of his head to Toris, sneering.

Toris swallowed his pride, and said;

"M-master. P-please spare Eduard! I-I'll promise to always love you a-and n-never leave you... j-just let him go free, out of the castle!" Toris blurted, causing Ivan to cock his head to the side, contemplating what Toris said. Eduard's face had a mixture of fear and confusion.

"Forever and ever?" Ivan lowered his scissors.

"F-forever and ever. I swear on my mother's oak tree that I will never leave." Toris tried to hide the look of misery and keep a straight face, despite the tears that flowed down.

Ivan stabbed the floor boards and reached into his pocket, pulling out a bronze key.

"Here Glasses. Don't let mommy see you, or your dead like the little one and the girly one. Remember who sacrificed themselves for you." He said, dropping the key in Eduard's hands. Eduard gripped the key tightly and ran around Ivan, and to Toris. Toris looked away, refusing to look Eduard in the eyes. He barely heard him bid his thanks. Eduard fled the bathroom, and the master and his slave stood there until they heard the front doors open and slam shut.

"That was a very stupid thing for Maneken to do. But now I know Maneken is not a coward." Ivan said softly, before pulling his scissors from the floor boards.

They stood awkwardly for a long while, facing each other in the bathroom, with Toris bowing his head ashamedly, and Ivan staring at his giant pair of scissors. Finally, Ivan slung his scissors over his shoulders with one hand, and walked past Toris, mute. Toris followed his master wordlessly, shuddering slightly at the thought of having to spend eternity with this demon child.

Still, something within Toris made him incapable of despairing his master - especially after the depression he had seen today - and, deep down, Toris thought he could help. Maybe, of he worked hard enough, he could melt the ice that coated Ivan's heart; maybe he could free them both.

Pressing his lips together and swallowing hatred and fear, Toris lay his frail, girlish fingers upon Ivan's arm.

"Master," He began, softly and calmly. "what do we do now?" He didn't feel like schmoozing up to Ivan, and didn't want to ask if he made the child proud. Eduard had escaped, as Toris had wanted, and Toris had doomed himself to slavery and butchery for the rest of his life.

Ivan stopped walking, and gave his captive a lopsided grin. "Maneken should not touch Ivan's body without permission." He said, tone emotionless as he gestured his head towards Toris' hand. Before Toris could pull away, the demonic child blurted,

"But you can touch Ivan now..." He trailed off, staring at Toris' fingers with glazed-over eyes. "Warm..." He rasped, barely audible, and his eyelids slowly closed all the way.

It annoyed Toris that his master never seemed to want to reply to anything he asked, but he did not act out. Ivan was, indeed, a child. Children only responded to what they wanted, when they wanted, and, certain children, freaked when they didn't get what they wanted, when they wanted. '_Maybe he will respond if I word it different..._' Curling his fingers against Ivan's arm, Toris murmured,

"Where are we going now, Ivan?" He realized after speaking that he had forgotten to address the boy as 'master', but it was too late to redeem himself now. He winced slightly, waiting to see what Ivan would do.

Like a light bulb, Ivan's face lit up brightly: his mouth pulled into a horrible smile and his eyes glinted like the sharp edge of a sword. "Oops, Maneken forgot to say 'master'!" He squealed. "Time for punishment!" Chuckling joyously, the oversized child snatched Toris' arm, and twisted it at an awkward angle, keeping a harsh hold.

"A-ak... I-I didn't mean t-to...m-master." Toris croaked - gosh his throat felt sore from crying so often of late - yet still he felt tears bead at his eyes. Ivan didn't seem to hear him, and continued twisting Toris' arm to the side, while easing him over to the wall, then shoving his face against it. The scent of old paint got clogged inside Toris' nose, but he did his best not to cough at it.

"M-master," He gasped when he heard a popping noise come from his arm. "I-I j-just wanted t-to ask a question."

"Nyet." Ivan's voice came as a low growl in his ear. "Ivan HEARD you the first time, but he didn't want to answer." His tone started out loud, but gradually fell into lower, sweeter octaves. Sighing pleasantly, the child laid his head between Toris' neck and shoulder.

"You messed up, my brave little Maneken." He laughed calmly.

_'Asking for forgiveness will get me nowhere.'_ Toris thought with a shudder, his back stiffening up at the icy touch of Ivan's skin meeting his. The boy's hair was amazing, though: as soft as silk, and so clean it almost chimed when Ivan moved. Of course, this was no time to be obsessing over someone's hair; Toris' arm was beginning to ache.

"I'm so sorry, master." He spoke levelly and clearly. "I deserve to be taught a lesson, master; j-just please don't hate me..." Acting. Toris had never been that good at it, but he was trying his hardest now. The pathetic, whiny voice he pulled off sounded partially like Feliks on a bad-hair day, and partially like Raivis when he broke something accidentally. 'Let him buy it...' The brunette pleaded.

Surprisingly, Ivan let go of his slave's arm, but kept his face buried into the boy's shoulder. He turned it downwards in a way, so that his eyes were concealed in the fabric of Toris' large, green coat. Toris didn't move. Remaining pressed to the wall, he merely glanced sideways at Ivan...who seemed to be shivering with some unspoken emotion.

"You think I'm stupid," He hissed. "Maneken." He pulled his head off of Toris in a way that spoke cautiousness, and tilted it halfway to the side. His lips twitched, offering his slave a light-hearted smile.

"You hate me, Maneken." The boy continued in a hiss, and Toris noted that he had come back to speaking in the first person. "You think I'm awful...well, Mommy and Natalia are worse."

"Y-yes..." Toris stammered in response. His eyes were wide, all of the whites showing up. He wasn't even sure what he said yes for - was it to Ivan being awful, or his sister and mother being worse? Breathing in quick gasps, he rotated himself around, and stared at Ivan's scarf; he still hated to look at the half of the child's deformed face.

A surge of fury made Ivan's form quiver, and his hand flashed forwards. Yelping, Toris moved backwards and pressed himself against the wall, only to find Ivan's hand clutching at the fabric of his coat. From behind him, Ivan withdrew his scissors.

"You don't deserve eyes." He giggled childishly, poking the blade gently beneath Toris' left socket. A thin line of blood slunk down the boy's cheek, like a crimson tear. Toris' chest heaved up and down madly, and a choked sob escaped his raw throat.

"You don't deserve a tongue either." Ivan spat, removing the blade to place it at the corner of Toris' open mouth; it drew a droplet of red as well, indicating just how very sharp they were.

For a moment, Toris only was able to take in deep, great breaths. He thought he was going to hyperventilate. "W-why?" The gasping question inched its way out of his teeth.

As usual, Ivan appeared to ignore his question. Instead, he pulled his scissors away, and placed one of the blades directly upon Toris' chest. "Maneken has a heart." He stated blatantly, smiling off-and-on, then frowning, and then smiling again. "A heart is a beautiful gift, da?" He continued, grinding the point slowly into Toris' coat, and tearing it, and his shirt.

"Maybe, Ivan should take you to Natalia. You can give her your heart, and, in return, Maneken will never have to look at Ivan's ugly face again!" A crazed laugh rumbled out of Ivan's lungs then, and he pulled his scissors backwards, away from Toris. Liquid glinted in the corners of the boys large, lavender eyes, and slowly crept down his cheeks and he threw his head back and hooted with glee.

"Then Maneken will never be forget to say master anymore, and big meanie Ivan won't hit him anymore. Maneken can be FREE!"

Toris didn't know what to say. "I'm...I like you better than Natalia." He stated stupidly, words barely falling at hearing level. Ivan turned his sharp gaze back towards him.

Placing his fingers underneath his slave's chin, Ivan pursed his lips. "Do you?" He snickered, tears still cascading from his beautiful inhuman eyes, leaving gray marks down the mutated side of his face. "Or are you just lying to me again?" Gripping Toris' chin tighter, he mimicked,

"Where are we going, Ivan? What are we doing now? Don't hate me, Ivan! AHAHAHA!" Screeching laughter, he shoved Toris' head away. "Perhaps you want to meet Natalia?" He crooned, tightening his hand upon the scissors they held and beaming. "Do you?"

"Sure." Toris stated blankly.

"Eh?" Ivan near dropped his scissors.

Now, a thing about Toris was something everyone loved, was that he was great with the other younger children at the orphanage. He 'understood' how they worked, and often was able to work with a system where they both got their way. Toris didn't want to meet Natalia, and Ivan wanted to prove his dominance over his slave.

Ivan giggled cruelly. "Nyet, you're a stupid slave, Maneken. I don't want to give you want. I'm not going to let you meet Natalia! What if Maneken likes Natalia more than Ivan? Ivan wants Maneken all to himself."

Toris looked down, noticing his shard of glass he was meant to butcher people with laid there, and bent down to pick it up.

All of a sudden, Ivan shuddered.

"Maneken."

"Yes Iva-M-master Ivan?" Toris responded, quickly rewording himself, not wanting to be punished again.

"Mommy's coming."

"What?!" Toris near shrieked.

"Maneken, shut up."

Footsteps resounded down the hallway, nearing faster and faster; it seemed like someone was running as if their life depended on it. Toris' heart leaped. _'Ivan's mother... I must be doomed.' _Shuddering, he staggered a few steps backwards, clutching his shard of glass tightly in his hand out of fear. Before he could do much to move, Ivan gripped him roughly by the shoulders and pulled him close.

"H-hey..!" Toris squeaked in a shocked response, but the tall demonic child only pressed a finger to his lips in response. Remaining obedient, Toris silenced himself.

There were tears of fear in Ivan's large violet eyes as he tugged his slave closer, and quickly opened the buttons on his coat. "I don't want Maneken to die!" He croaked weakly, pulling Toris harshly inside his coat and buttoning it up in front of them. It was an awful plan, as the top of Toris' head was still visible, jutting out from just beneath Ivan's chin. "Get down lower!" Ivan snapped through gritted teeth.

It was exceedingly uncomfortable, and hard to move, but besides that, Toris knew they were going to be found out. He started to tremble viciously, and actually was grateful for the warmth Ivan was offering him at the moment. "I-I don't want to die..." He choked emotionally, fingers finding their way to Ivan's shirt and clinging there. He wished he could just melt away into the tall boy at the moment, and be safe, forever...but deep down he felt that his life was not worth living anyways.

A dark figure appeared in the hallway before them, and Ivan shoved Toris head roughly beneath his coat, which proved to be unhelpful, as this unsteadied the latter and caused his knees to buckle from under them. "Nyet! Nyet! Nyet!" Ivan fumed as Toris tumbled out from under his coat, and ended up splayed on the floor. Finding his scissors, Ivan took a couple steps forwards, until he was standing with his feet on either side of Toris, and then he brandished his silver weapon to the approaching figure.

"G-go away!" He squeaked meekly, sounding much like his true age, though his body betrayed him.

Laying face down on the floor, Toris hesitantly brought himself up to his elbows and looked around. All of a sudden, Miss Braginskaya burst from the shadows, huffing and puffing, her cheeks flustered red and her enormous chest bouncing up and down. She stated at Ivan for a moment, as if not comprehending, and then at Toris, lying upon the floor. At the same time, both of their eyes widened into the side of saucer plates. _'She's been chased here by Ivan's demon mother!' _Toris feared, pushing himself upright and crawling out from between Ivan's legs.

"Miss Braginskaya!" He cried out in mortification; he owed this woman everything, she had practically raised him, he couldn't let her be destroyed by the creatures in this house.

"Nyet, Toris!" Ivan demanded hotly, shifting his scissors to one hand and reaching out to grab Toris by the shoulder. Seizing the opportunity, Toris whirred and slapped the scissors out of his hand. "NYET!" Ivan screeched as he watched his precious death-tool clatter upon the floor.

Breathing heavily with relief, Toris ran forwards. He was going to be safe now - he would escape with Miss Braginskaya, and go back to live at the orphanage - and no one else would die!

"Hurry!" He panted when he reached the orphanage matron, spreading his arms as if to embrace her. "We have to run!" He gasped. "Come on!"

"Oh Toris..!" Miss Braginskaya whimpered, in what must have been a grateful sob. She looked so distraught: her hair was a sticky, sweaty mess, and her lovely eyes were rimmed with red...why her clothes were even tattered and coated with mud!

"Oh, oh, Toris." She repeated again, but this time, she sounded...different.

Toris barely saw the flash of steel that suddenly appeared in Miss Braginskaya's hand before he felt large hands envelope him around the waist, and jerk him backwards.

"Ivan! What are you doing?" Ms. Braginskaya growled at the boy. "Let mommy take Toris to Natalia." She said, extending a hand to Toris.

"Toris? Who's Toris? This is Maneken! He's mine and you can't let him go to Natalia! He's my slave!" Ivan cried, tears pouring down.

"Oh? _Toris_ seems to be rather disobedient for a slave, seeing he just tried to go back to the orphanage to escape." Ms. Braginskaya said, sweet innocent tones somehow turning dark.

"No! Maneken isn't leaving me! Maneken is my slave and I'm going to beat him for his stupidness! Mommy, please don't take my slave from me!" Ivan's eyes pleaded. Toris saw the boys scissors were dropped on the floor.

At that Ms. Braginskaya grinned;

"Your slave...?" She chuckled. "Ah, we could use someone to clean the house, it's rather dirty. Tor-M-Maneken, I'll let you live if you clean this house, amuse my son, and do whatever he, or I say." Her face drew sadistic.

_'There's no escape for me...'_ Toris stared in horror.

Ms. Braginskaya pulled out a knife, and brought it under Toris' chin. A drop of blood spilt on the knife, causing Toris to wince from the pain, he received so much today...

"Do you agree, 'Maneken'?" She snickered.

Toris shook, to be a slave, to his matron! She was behind it all... She would take children and tell them they were adopted, then taking them to her home, killing and feeding them to this 'Natalia'. Like lambs for slaughter.

He didn't want to die, and so much of his pride was crushed today, his life didn't seem that important. 'Maybe I should let them kill me...'

"Yes, I'll b-be a s-slave." Toris swore for the third time that night.

"Good." Ms. Braginskaya smiled, her boobs bouncing slightly. "Ivan, take Toris to the attic and have him drag a mattress up there. There's really nothing up there but furniture and dust, Toris, that'll be your room from now on. Wake up at dawn, make breakfast, feed my husband, bring us our meal, get to cleaning. If Ivan says for you to do anything, you are to do it. Got it?"

"Y-yes mistress. I got it."

With that, Ivan plucked his huge pair of scissors from the floor, and turned towards Toris, concealing all emotion on his face. "Come." He demanded unhappily, tapping the flat of one of the blades against Toris' back.

Shuddering with remembrance to Ivan's promise to give him a beating, Toris sluggishly moved forwards. It felt as if Ms. Braginskaya's eyes were digging into his back the whole time he walked, and his body shook all over. It was still hard for him to comprehend. WHY would Ms. Braginskaya do such a thing to innocent children? How could someone who had seemed so kind turn out so evil? Trembling even more so, Toris stumbled and almost fell to his knees.

Before he could fall very far to the ground, Ivan grasped the back of his shirt roughly. "Now, now, Maneken," He chuckled, eyes glittering like molten amethyst. "Mommy said I can keep you, so you better be good."

_'She doesn't even care a rat for you.'_ Toris thought to himself, feeling half sorry for the boy, and half glad of his pain. However, he didn't say anything except, "Yes...master."

They ventured further down the hall, and through the twists and turns of the house, until finally Ivan paused at one of the guest bedrooms. Dragging his scissors merrily, he walked inside. Toris recognized it was one of the rooms he had been inside before; the one with the demonic vanity mirror and the colorful Macaw. "Which mattress...?" He began asking timidly, glancing from one to the other nonchalantly.

Instead of answering, Ivan walked forwards and tugged the mattress without a blanket off the bed. He ignored Toris' covetous look towards the other one, and began dragging the thing out the room and down the hallway, towards a flight of stairs. Sighing, Toris followed.

"I...I can carry it...master." Toris muttered as Ivan ascended the dusty, creaky stairway, the mattress bumping against his side the whole time. In all actuality, Toris didn't really want to carry it, but he thought that maybe if he was polite to his master, Ivan's fury would be less violent.

Shuffling his feet to purposefully cause dust to rise into the air, Ivan stated, "If I wanted Maneken to carry it, I would have made him." At the top of the stairs he paused, shifting the mattress more under his arm, and adjusting his grip on his scissors, which were in his other hand. "Besides. I'm strong enough to carry both things. ...you made mommy think I'm weak."

"I'm s-sorry." Toris stammered timorously, glancing down at his feet as he heard the sound of keys jangling, and looked up to see Ivan unlocking the door to the attic. The realization that his master could lock him in if he do desired made Toris feel a bit queasy inside. "M-master...?" He began to ask as Ivan opened up the doorway and threw the mattress in onto the center of the room.

Turning, eyes shining like lights in the dark, the giant demon boy tilted his head to the side. "Da?" He asked, blinking slowly, as if lost in thought. Toris stared at his long eyelashes in memorization before responding.

Slipping into the room past the child, he croaked weakly, "I-I'm s-sorry I tried to escape." and stumbled back a bit, his ankle bumping into the mattress. Cobwebs littered the dark room, and much randomized old furniture lay about.

Smiling, Ivan gave him a slight pat on the head. "It's ok, Maneken." He chirped. "I know you were only kidding!" Forcing a smile in response, Toris bobbed his head, finding Ivan's hand crashing into his chest moments later and shoving him down to his mattress. "Now. Go to sleep!" The boy continued in a sing-song voice, quietly stepping out of the room, and slowly beginning to shut the door.

"W-wait!" Toris cried out suddenly, stiffening up with nervousness. "Um...are you still going to beat me?" His voice was barely audible, and the words tasted sour on his tongue.

"Haha. Maybe in the morning," Ivan smirked in reply. "if Ivan is still angry~." After that he shut the door, leaving Toris alone in the dusty blackness.

**Yes. Ukraine is evil.**

**Right here, I want to make fun of a small piece of Vanya's writing because it's still causing me to crack up.**

**The obsession over Ivan's hair, IT'S SO SIIIIILKYYYYYYY! XD**

**Now to be fair, I'll make fun of my own writing ._.**

**This time, Vanya wrote so much more for my inability to think- DAFUQ?! 17 PAGES LONG?! O_O- throughout this chapter. I was busy typing other stories, or going to annoying friends that you love(and might possibly be a lesbian :I) Birthday party. (Not that I have anything against lesbians, it's just that, she's my Poland (It kind of fits) and I've known her since she was three and I was five. Not knowing she was a lesbian would freak me out.)**

**Oh look, a rant about my Poland...**

**Okay, I wasn't TOO busy...**

**I have an addiction to World of Warcraft. I need therapy. DX**

**Oh, I noticed Vanya and I obsess over certian things on Ivan, such as his silky(sexy) hair and purple eyes.**

**Vanya, if you're going to obsess over Ivan's hair, then I'm going to obsess over that Macaw. It's MY Macaw now. Imma name him Albert! X3**

**Toris is unimportant, he gets no obsessions. (Why are my authors notes so long?)**


	3. Chapter 3

The attic was so cold, and Toris wasn't given anything to keep warm with. He huddled into himself on the mattress, trying to get some sleep because he knew Ms. Braginskaya and Ivan were going to work him hard tomorrow. One of the tasks was to feed her husband, and she made it sound like he was an animal...

Although he could cook, he doubted Ivan would let him eat anything good. The way that boy worked was to make himself happy while Toris himself was miserable. He wouldn't be surprised if his meals consisted of gruel. Something unappetizing and not filling. He would probably be starving 24/7.

And the thought he was going to get beat tomorrow was even worse. To have that deformed Man-Childs hands beating and leaving sharp bruises on his body made him quake. Toris knew he would be powerless to stop him too.

The cold felt like it was killing him, and he knew he wouldn't get a ounce of sleep. He just hoped that tomorrow he would be so tired he'd pass out as soon as he hit his bed.

You couldn't really call it a bed, for it had no sheets, and it was rather uncomfortable.

He just wished his dad hadn't gone missing, and he hoped the man was okay.

Tossing and turning, finally the boy gave up and sat up. He looked around his room, various pieces of furniture littered about. Getting to his feet, he walked to the windowsill and looked out. He stared at that beautiful horizon and looked on longingly outside. Wanting nothing more than to escape from this nightmare.

He looked west, and noted the sun was rising. He sighed, yawning. He pulled on his boots and walked to the door, figuring he might as well start in his chores.

Toris near screamed with fright when he saw a pajama-wearing Ivan at his door.

"Oh, good, Maneken. I thought I was going to have to wake you up myself." Ivan rubbed his eyes sleepily. Toris didn't even want to know what the child would have done if he wasn't awake.

"G-good morning, master." Was all Toris could muster to say, bowing with false respect.

"Mommy made me get up so I could show you where things are. Don't forget, I'm not doing this again. Its, I think, four in the morning." Ivan grumbled, walking down the steep stairs that led from Toris' quarters.

Sleepily, Ivan gave a yawn as he walked, mumbling, "Maneken already knows where my room is, so I'll show you mommy's next. If she's not downstairs for breakfast, bring her food there." Upon Toris nodding, the giant child reached over and mussed his hair in his fingers in a way a child would pet a puppy. Toris only bowed his head. Unamused, Ivan's eyes seemed to darken. "Maneken has not forgotten that he was a bad boy, no?"

Fear shot through Toris' body, and he flinched away. "N-no, sir." He muttered, eyes flickering to the floor, and then to Ivan's face. He really wasn't looking forwards to being beaten...

A chuckle escaped from Ivan's throat and he smirked slightly. "Come, Maneken." He said. Pausing, he stepped in front of an elegant magenta-colored door with a small wooden table to the side of it. Upon the wood, elegant carvings of nightshade were engraved, depicting the delightful, deadly flower coiling around the shape of a heart.

"This is mommy's room." Ivan told his slave slowly. "You are never to go in without her permission. Knock when you bring her breakfast, if she's not downstairs. If she doesn't answer, leave your food on the table."

"Yes, master." Toris nodded timidly, trying to keep his body from quaking.

Ignoring Toris' shaking, Ivan continued to lead him throughout the house. He showed the boy the kitchen next, and where the cleaning supplies were at, and told him what he would be expected to cook. "W-what about your f-father?" He asked softly when Ivan was about to leave the room. "M-miss Braginskaya said to feed him..."

A dark look crossed Ivan's face, as if the mere mention of his father brought forth dark memories, and feelings of disgust. "Daddy will be in the shed outside." He spoke though gritted teeth, then gave Toris a wide, cruel smile. "You can find him yourself. I want to go back to bed..."

Seeing it was useless to argue, Toris only bobbed his head. "Yes...master Ivan..." He whispered softly, turning his back on the child and contemplating what he should cook.

Seeing he knew very little about cooking, he decided to make something he knew was simple, and looked around for ingredients. He pulled out a pot and began boiling water and skinning potatoes. Tears began falling, unable to handle how degrading this was, every ounce of work reminding him he was a slave who had a beating waiting for him.

The water began to boil and he dropped three potatoes in. He then continued to look through the cupboards until he found a frying pan, putting oil in it and looking for the ingredients to make pancakes.

Once the potatoes were boiled and mashed, he mixed them in with the pancake mix. He then poured the thick batter into the pan. He began making potato pancakes.

He made about three pancakes for each, including the father, why he was in the shed, he didn't know. Maybe he was working...?

He almost bothered to pour milk, but looking at it in the fridge, he nearly puked at the sourness.

He found a large tray he would be able to carry several plates of food on. He went to Ivan's room first and knocked on the door. The large boy came out with an annoyed expression.

"What?" He said, rubbing his eyes. It was about nine in the morning now, it seemed the boy liked his sleep.

"M-master, I brought you b-breakfast." Toris tried and failed to keep from stuttering.

"Good, now go feed mommy." He snapped slightly, taking his food and shutting the door.

Reaching Ms. Braginskaya's door, he knocked. He knew she wasn't downstairs, but she also didn't answer. He left her food outside on the table and headed for the shed, which he remembered the exact location of, giving Raivis died there...

He went to the shed and walked in. He nearly dropped his tray at the sight.

Inside, he saw a filthy man, in rags. He was shaking and rocking back and forth in a corner in a giant cage. He didn't even acknowledge Toris entering the shed.

"S-sir?" Toris addressed him, sliding the plate of food under the bars.

At the sight of food, the man jumped and near lunged at it, and quickly stepped back as he watched the man devour it greedily.

"W-who are you?" Toris asked. Once the man was done, he looked at the brunette.

"J-...Jones..." he said softly, before giggling.

"I-its watching you." He continued.

"What's watchi-"

"In the cradle...under the star." He then giggled happily. Toris would have asked another question, but saw it pointless, seeing the man was no longer looking at him.

"W-well...goodbye m-mister Jones..." Toris stammered as he backed away from the caged man and stepped outside the shed. Mister Jones made no sign that he had heard him, and only stared straight ahead, rocking back and forth, and murmuring about 'the cradle under the star' over and over again. Shuddering, Toris closed the shed door shut. 'What is the cradle under the star...?' He wondered with a frown.

Trying to erase the image of Mister Jones from his memory, as well as his disturbing words, Toris went back inside the house. As he stepped into the kitchen, the sudden thought of Feliks crossed his mind. 'Did he get away?' Toris wondered for the first time, a sick feeling creeping into his stomach. 'Or did Miss Braginskaya..?'

Shaking his head, Toris tried to force the bloody images from his mind. This was no time to be fretting over someone who was likely butchered and dead...even though it was his best friend. "Ne..." He voiced aloud, needing the sound of his own voice at the moment. Taking deep, heaving breaths, he bent down upon the floor and opened the bottom cabinet in the kitchen, revealing numerous cleaning supplies.

"That's right, you need to clean." He murmured, removing a light-bluish colored bottle of window cleaner and a soft gray rag. "Clean like a good little slave." Hands shaking with his contained emotions, Toris crept out of the kitchen and into the hallway, wondering how he was supposed to clean the whole place.

The nearest window was facing out toward the courtyard where Raivis had been killed, and Toris' hands trembled violently as he scrubbed it clean. He despised that view out the window, and just staring at the swimming pool gave him images of his little friend sinking into oblivion. This made sudden feelings of hatred towards Iva rise, and he rabidly cleaned the pane even harder, forgetting his pity for the boy. 'It's impossible to save him.' He told himself, finishing his fierce cleaning and moving onto the next window.

Toris spent about an hour cleaning window after window, and it got to the point where he didn't even know where he was in the house anymore. Every once in a while he would stumble upon a place that seemed familiar, but for the most part he wandered about aimlessly cleaning every window he saw. His arms had begun to ache like mad, and he wondered how in the world he was going to clean this whole house, every day, without passing out from exhaustion.

At the end of another bleak hallway, Toris came to a dead end. There was a single window at the end of the hall, covered up by dark crimson curtains. 'This must be the last one on this floor.' Toris supposed, approaching the thing with his bottle of window cleaner ready. It was already a third of the way empty, which worried him, but he tried to ignore that fact to the best of his abilities. 'Strange...' Toris noticed as his fingers grabbed onto the corners of the curtains. 'There's leaves on the carpet.'

Jerking the curtains apart, Toris gasped. Dropping his rag, he stepped back in shock.

There was no glass inside the window's frame as there should have been, instead it was gaping open to the outside world, letting in sweet-smelling, soft air. The window led out to a beautiful garden, sprouting humongous flowers of a rainbow-shade variety, and harboring a small, transparent pond. A large statue of an angel stood in the middle of the flowers, although one of its wings had crumbled apart, and it's face was illegible. However, none of this was what interested Toris; it was the iron archway, covered with morning glory that interested him, for it led directly out of the mansion...and into the woods nearby.

'I could escape..!' Toris realized, joy overcoming his body. Maybe he could climb through the window, and run...and then he wouldn't have to worry about Ivan, and Miss Braginskaya, and the cradle under the star, whatever that was! Still, the logical side of Toris reminded him that he had no supplies or means to survive, and he found himself reluctantly turning away from the window and walking back down the hall.

'I could grab some food from the kitchen!' He was plotting as he went around curve after curve, hallway after hallway, his heart beating in his chest. 'I'll take my share of glass...and I'll steal a blanket from one of the rooms, and then, then I'll run!' Just as he went around a corner and spotted the kitchen door nearby, he slammed into something, or rather, someone.

"Maneken," A voice said unhappily. "Where have you been?"

"M-Master!" Toris cried from shock. "I-I've been cleaning the windows..." the brunette trembled. The back of Ivan's hand met Toris' cheek, the said man crying out from the pain.

"Bad Maneken. You were supposed to amuse me while doing it." The boy narrowed his eyes. Toris noticed the boy didn't have his scissors.

"And you're a horrible cook." He grinned.

"Hey!" Toris snapped, before quickly looking down, forgetting it wasn't his place to speak out against his master.

A horribly dark look crossed Ivan's face, and suddenly Toris found himself shoved up against the wall. "I believe Maneken is in need of punishment, da?" He laughed, cruelly twisting his fingers into Toris' light brown hair, and jerking his head around roughly. "I was going to spare you a beating...but you just HAVE to be ungrateful!" Screeching, he threw his slave onto the floor, and proceeded to kick him in the ribs.

A squeal of pain escaped Toris' lips, and he curled in on himself, chest heaving with terror. "N-ne, I'm sorry...!" He gasped meekly, attempting to rise to his knees. He couldn't quite comprehend why Ivan was suddenly going off on him so violently.

"Stand!" Ivan commanded sharply, and Toris was quick to rise to his feet. Snatching the other male's wrist in his calloused hand, Ivan dragged Toris away from the kitchen and into another room. Toris didn't have time to see what room it was, for Ivan chucked him onto the ground once more as soon as he opened the door. "Why do you make me do this?" He asked, almost sounding anguished as he fumbled through his pockets and withdrew a rope.

'No. There is no way he could just have convent rope in his pockets.' Toris stared at Ivan's large, clumsy hands with a look of fear and disgust as the child shoved him violent downwards and started to tie his wrists together, above his head. 'No. No. No.' Toris' whole body shook, yet he did not struggle as his wrists were bound tightly. 'Bastard!' "You...you've probably been waiting to do this for a long time!" Toris blurted, unable to control himself. He bit into his lower lip next, expecting a blow to the face.

A smile slowly spread its way across Ivan's countenance, though it seemed to be a slightly sad one, and he chuckled in a low tone. "Of course I have, Maneken!" He chirped psychotically, lavender eyes glittering like hot gemstones. "I've been waiting to teach you what happens to little boys when they misbehave...little monsters...little bad boys who don't follow orders...!" Giggling, he tugged Toris into a sitting position, then reached into his excessively large coat, fingering another object. "Maneken will turn the other way now!" He nodded. "Ivan doesn't want to ruin his pretty face."

He wanted to obey...but he just couldn't. Toris stayed frozen, his green eyes crystallized upon Ivan's beaming grin, and pallid white teeth. "Why...?" He asked in barely a whisper. "I haven't even...done-."

"YOU DID." Ivan snapped furiously, pulling his hands out of his pockets to grip Toris by the shoulders. "You misbehaved!" He continued, and Toris soon found his face, and the upper half of his chest, pushed against the wall. "It all your fault." Ivan choked behind him. "All...your...fault..."

Moments later, Toris felt the first blow land upon his back. He really wasn't sure what Ivan was hitting him with exactly, but it hurt like hell. Each strike was like being lashed by fire. He didn't even try to hold in his cries and screams of agony that rocketed out of his throat and echoed throughout the room as he was beaten, and his fingers clenched painfully together. By the time Ivan had hit him approximately ten times, tears were flowing down his whitened cheeks, and blood was dripping down his back. "Stop! Just stop! Please, stop! I'll do anything! Please! I'm sorry!" He soon found himself begging, his whole body arching from the pain, and all the heat rising to his cheeks along with adrenaline. "It's hurting!" He cried, unable to even think because of the greatness of the pain. "It's hurting..."

The pain was so intense, that Toris didn't even realize when Ivan finally stopped. The sound of some heavy object clattered to the floor behind him, and warm, careful hands were suddenly all over his body. "Oh Maneken..." Ivan's voice was saying, though Toris barely heard; he only sat and stared numbly at the ceiling as he was held, and the ropes binding his wrists together were removed.

Purple eyes peered into his soul from above, as Ivan cupped his slave's face in one of his large, scarred hands, and stared straight down at him. He looked mortified. "Maneken...Maneken...Maneken..." He repeated over and over again, running gentle fingers through Toris' velvet-soft hair. Toris could only stare at him in response, unsure how he should feel, except for the fact that he was feeling pain.

A tear formed in Ivan's eye, on the deformed side of his face. It trickled down passed his unseemly, marred muscle and flesh, and cascaded through the air and into Toris' own face, where it merged with his own tears. "No more..." He whimpered incoherently, feeling the still present ache in his back.

"No...more...master..." Toris was grateful he didn't wear his jacket, and at least only his shirt was ruined. He didn't even realize how tight the ropes were, rubbing the rope burn he received.

"Maneken, g-go make dinner." Ivan said quickly. Toris knew he didn't even make lunch, so just cleaning those windows already took several hours, then receiving his beating, who knew how long that took. The pain was unbearable. He couldn't understand how Ivan expected him to continue to work and clean under these conditions. Shaking, he got to his feet, slowly bowed his head to his master. And then the slave left the room.

His knees shook, and he could barely make it to the kitchen, despite it being right next to the room.

He made something simple, yet acceptable enough where he wouldn't get beat again. He made pirizhoki He made it quickly, yet did it the same way his father taught him. Toris didn't eat breakfast, and he was in so much pain he didn't want dinner either. He made six pirizhoki, two for Ms. Braginskaya, two for Mr. Jones, two for Ivan. He slightly prayed starving himself like this would kill him soon, but the blood trickling down his back reminded him that Ivan wouldn't let his slave die, he would rather make him suffer.

He heard a piano playing, and went to the room whereas he found Ms. Braginskaya. A slightly worried expression came when she saw him shaking so bad he could barely stand.

"W-where shall I put your p-plate, mistress?" Toris didn't even bother to keep from stuttering. Ms. Braginskaya rose from her spot and took the plate, placing it on a small table near the piano. Toris bowed his head and turned away, flinching at the cruel chuckle she made upon seeing his back.

He brought the pirizhoki to Mr. Jones, who, this time, didn't lunge for the food. He seemed to be more into his senses.

"Son, why are you here, bringing me food?" Okay, he was a lot more into his senses.

"I am a s-slave, sir. I-its my job." Toris said softly.

"They enslaved you...? Man, that sucks bro." He looked away. "Thanks though, I'm like, starving."

"You're welcome, sir. Thank you." Toris bowed.

"Why are you thanking me?"

"W-well, you're the first one to thank me for a meal." Toris looked down. Mr. Jones just smiled and looked away. Toris took this as a sign he was done with the conversation.

He brought the final plate of Pirizhoki to his master, Ivan. His shaking increased tenfold, he could barely hold the tray. Ivan was in his room, and a sad look came across his face upon seeing the slave. He quickly took the plate and slammed the door. Toris ceased his shaking, and returned to the kitchen.

The throbbing in his back was so great he couldn't clean up, so he put the tray away and went to the attic where he slept. He didn't understand why he had to sleep somewhere so isolated and cold, there were so many bedrooms...

He laid on his stomach, finding it impossible to sleep on his back. The pain was so great, he fell asleep moments later. Complete blackness greeted Toris in his dreams, and he found, for once, he almost dreamed of nothing. The only reason he could still say he dreamed was because he heard voices within the dark what he resided in, whispering sharply in his ears. They were telling him something - something important - but he couldn't tell just what. He thought they were talking about him...but then a moment later he thought he heard the word Ivan...he couldn't even tell. Somewhere along the lines it sounded like singing, even.

When he awoke much later, Toris found that his back felt rather...cold. Of course, his whole body was cold from the chill of the attic he slept in, but his back felt especially cool, and damp. 'Blood is not cold.' He thought to himself drowsily, not wanting to rise from the dirty mattress he lay face down upon. Whining audibly, he reached a hand behind him and tentatively touched his back.

'Wet...' Realization struck him that his shirt was pulled up all the way to his neck, and something else was lying upon his skin. Daintily, he grasped it between his fingers and pulled it from his back. Stretching weakly, he brought himself up to his knees and observed the object he had received: it was a damp rag, soaked through with blood that had been leaking from his back, and by the smell of it, it had been dipped in peroxide.

A shudder traveled through Toris' aching body upon the sight of it, and he tossed it away, a feeling of satisfaction overcoming him as it thunked against the wall. 'But why...' He asked himself, shaking all over. He felt like screaming, and wanted to curl back up in bed and just fall asleep...and never wake up. "Just let me die..." He said meekly, fingers clenching into fists at his sides. "Let me die..."

Toris didn't move, his body just wouldn't allow it. After tossing the rag, and positioning himself so he was comfortable, even though it was near impossible to lay on your stomach on something so _dirty_, he couldn't complain. It was better than Ivan's closet.

Dawn broke, and soon the sun shined through his window. He wanted to watch the sunrise, but his back hurt so bad... he just hoped he wouldn't receive a worse punishment for laying in bed.

'_There are things worse than death_' he remembered his father saying that. This had to be one of them. Being someone's _slave_, being beaten and tortured, sleeping in such an environment...

Even in this short amount of time, he was surprised he'd yet to go insane.

"Goddess, I miss my father..." he mumbled under his breath.

He laid there for several minutes, the room began to get warmer. He couldn't help but wonder why Ivan cleaned his wounds, if he wanted to punish him so bad, why not just let the wounds infect?

Why does he even give a damn?!

Toris' breathing became heavy, anger and hatred rising, before tears just fell down his face. The stress was too much, he wished Ivan would have killed him.

He knew he shouldn't hate Ivan, it went against his morals.

This life isn't worth living...

Once the sun reached the center of the sky, depicting it was noon, he heard a knock at his door.

"Maneken?" Not wanting to respond, Toris buried his face within his arms and lay still. Maybe Ivan would go away if he pretended to be asleep. 'Just leave me alone...' He despaired, trying to conceal his quivering shoulders and the hiccupping sobs that popped from his mouth. His fingers clutched at his arms so hard in an attempt to calm himself, that the nails dug into the skin and left marks.

A sigh sounded from outside the door, and Toris heard it being opened slowly behind him, a slight breeze coming in as it was pulled back. "Maneken?" Ivan's voice spoke, sounding strangely melancholy. Toris only shut his eyes as tight as he could, and bit hard upon his lower lip. "A-are you asleep?" The boy master inquired in a whisper, and Toris heard the sound of his feet pattering across the floor.

'Do not move. Do not move.' Toris commanded himself, forcing his body into an awkwardly limp state. It took all he had not to move when he heard the sound of clothing rustling, and Ivan kneeled beside him.

"You took off the rag." The boy observed, reaching his hand forwards tentatively and touching Toris on the top of his head. Unable to help himself, Toris shuddered, and once he had begun he couldn't stop. Audible sniffles betrayed him, escaping from his nose as tears wetted his cheeks and his frame shook all over. "Maneken," Ivan murmured unhappily, his fingers curling upon Toris' hair. "Sit up."

Holding back a sob, Toris rose off his stomach. Propped on his elbows for a moment, he murmured, "I-I'm sorry, m-master." hurriedly, before pushing himself into a sitting position. He didn't even want to look upon the face of this boy - no...this monster - who had beaten him so mercilessly, so Toris resorted to staring into his lap.

Humming quietly, Ivan reached a single one of his hands forwards and ran his index finger horizontally beneath the bottoms of Toris' eyes. "Maneken doesn't have to look at me." He spoke quietly, pulling his hand away when Toris openly flinched at the touch. "But...I brought something for you."

It had to be some sort of weird punishment for not getting up to do his chores, he was sure. Toris' head snapped upwards sharply and his eyes glazed themselves upon Ivan's face: the boy was smiling, which couldn't be a good thing, and the deformed side of his face was twitching awkwardly. "I-I d-didn't mean to sleep in, really!" Toris squeaked meekly. "I-I w-was j-just tired!" He couldn't help his stutter, which greatly annoyed him. Ivan laughed right in his face, and Toris recoiled in confusion, and hurt.

When he was done laughing, Ivan grabbed something he had set beside him, and raised it up in his hands to show Toris. "I-Ivan made borsht." He quipped softly, pushing the bowl of steaming soup towards Toris' face. Ivan's eyes were glittering brightly, and his mouth was drawn into a strange little 'o' as he stared at his slave. Toris knew that look, he had seen it on children at the orphanage too many times to count...it was a look of longing for approval, and acceptance. Was Ivan seeking attention from _Toris?_

Swallowing a lump that had formed in his throat, Toris inclined his head to the side, and nodded slowly. "I-I'm sure it's great, master." He murmured approvingly, cautiously smiling, although his face was still damp from tears.

In response, Ivan clambered forwards until he was almost in Toris' lap. "Ivan made it for you." He said nervously, speaking through gritted teeth as his face turned pink in some areas. Appearing insecure, the large child reached upwards and tugged at his scarf. "I-I made it for Maneken." He whispered, balancing the bowl in one hand, and holding his scarf tightly in the other.

The tantalizing smell of fresh beets, among other ingredients, wafted upwards to Toris and hit him in the face like a frying pan. He seemed to realize just how hungry he was at that moment, and the glands beneath his tongue started producing excess saliva. All in a few seconds, the pain in his back became a distant throbbing, and the hatred in his heart melted like ice on a sunny day. "F-for me...?" He stammered in confusion, staring at the expertly made dish with wide eyes.

Swirling a rather abused-looking spoon inside the liquid, Ivan nodded his head. "Da..." He murmured softly, placing the bowl into Toris' lap, "but don't tell mommy."

Shaking slightly, Toris reached his hand forwards and touched the spoon. It was warm, heated by the soup it floated in. Hesitant, Toris could not decide whether to consume the borscht or not. _'Is he trying to apologize to me..?_' He half wondered, eyes renaming glued into the murky liquid. 'Or is some kind of cruel trick?'

Toris took a cautious spoonful of the borscht, before bringing the whole bowl to his lips and drinking the filling, bitter soup. He felt his skin warm, the attic no longer being as horribly cold anymore.

"Maneken is a pig, da? Did you even eat yesterday?" Ivan giggled.

"I-I'm sorry, master. I-I didn't... I-I..." Toris once more began to shake.

"Its okay, Toris." Ivan smiled, Toris looked at his master with wide eyes. The last thing he suspected from his master was his real name, and not his slave name.

"I just don't want you to die. I-I would miss you. I-I'm...sorry for hurting you. I lost my temper..." the violet eyes boy looked at the ground, sorrow graced his features, even visible on the deformed half of his face.

Toris couldn't bring words, not knowing what to say, but also fearing another beating. Even if Ivan did apologize, Toris didn't doubt he would see plenty more beatings. That thought caused more tears to spill down. He hated how he was so unable to stop the tears.

"Maneken hates me... I know he does. Maneken has every right to hate m-master Ivan. Master Ivan is so mean to Maneken..." Ivan wiped his eyes sadly. He stood up, and looked out the window.

"Ivan wants to go out to the world, see sights and beauty. But mommy says I can never do that. That I'm to ugly...they'd kill me..." he placed his hand on the glass window, Toris placed the bowl on the ground. He debated on getting up, but sitting up hurt so much, he couldn't do so.

"If Ivan could run away with Maneken forever... Ivan would be so happy..." Ivan muttered. Toris noticed Ivan went back to calling him by his slave name.

"I bet it would, master." Toris forced a smile, even if Ivan wasn't looking.

Which was good, because Ivan looked back at his slave.

"Really? Mommy says I wouldn't last... but, we could be like, I don't know... you could do stuff for me in the day until night and we can do whatever we wanted! Wouldn't that be fun?" Ivan smiled, a sad look crossed his features, as if saying this was nothing but a silly dream.

"That would be fun, m-master" Toris agreed, not seeing why he shouldn't. If he was able to receive such an opportunity to snatch his freedom... no, it WAS just a silly, childish dream.

Ivan buried his face into his scarf, face blushing.

"I'm glad Maneken agrees" he walked to the door. "Maneken, come to my room in five minutes." He said, before slamming the door behind him.

Toris sat up in upmost confusion. He felt much better than before, what with a full stomach and all, and there was no doubting Ivan's gentle intentions when he came into the room, he hoped, yet still...what could Ivan possibly want that he couldn't say in Toris' room? Sighing, the slave stared at the empty bowl beside his bed, thinking about anything to keep his mind off his rather complicated master. He thought about borsht, and how to make it, but after a while his thoughts wondered and turned into thoughts about how Ivan was a much better cook than he was, and these thoughts soon turned into just plain Ivan-centered thoughts soon enough.

Stretching himself out in a pained way, Toris rose to his feet. It didn't matter what he thought - those were free - but for now he was a slave, and his duty was to report to his master's bedroom. Glancing towards the small and dusty window one last time, Toris forced himself to stand, and staggered his way to the doorway.

Walking was much more difficult than it had been yesterday, and with each step, Toris' back was wracked with pain. By the time he reached Ivan's door, he was gritting his teeth and there were tears in his eyes.

"M-master..." He called timidly, rapping his knuckles lightly upon the door. He remembered the last time he had been in Ivan's room, and how grand the boy's bed had been. What Toris would give to sleep in a bed even half that splendid now...

"Come in, Maneken." Ivan chirped in response, the sound of his voice sending a chill up Toris' spine. "I told you to come here anyways; there's no need to knock."

Shaking with a slight amount of fear, Toris pulled back the handle and opened the door. Stepping in, and shutting it behind him, he sighted Ivan sitting on his bed, clutching a big, plush pillow to him. "M-master?" Toris' voice cracked slightly when he spoke, and he gulped nervously to compose himself. He noted that the window Ivan had smashed was still broken, and the room temperature was much cooler than normal. Why hadn't Ivan demanded he fix the window?

Looking up, Ivan set the pillow aside and smiled quirkily. "Maneken," He murmured sweetly, lavender eyes aglow with a mingling of warmth and sadness. "Come over here."

Repressing a shiver, Toris nodded his head, and then slowly made his way over to his master. Not knowing exactly what he wanted, Toris just stood in front of Ivan, staring at the child's scarf and awaiting orders. "Y-yes...master?" He stammered, frightened that all this gentleness Ivan was showing him would end, and the boy master would suddenly become psychotic again.

Sighing in a bored fashion, Ivan leaned forwards and grabbed Toris beneath his arms. Terrified that the unusually strong child was going to crush his ribs or something, Toris let out a frightened squeak. He only found himself lifted off the ground and placed within Ivan's embrace, the boy squeezing him tightly to his chest, burying his head in his shoulder and rocking him back and forth slightly. When he was done giving Toris a hug, he pushed his slave to the side of him, and stared ahead worriedly. "Ivan doesn't know what..." He trailed off, eyebrows furrowing on his forehead. "Did that hurt, Maneken?" He inquired, concern written all over his face.

Shaking his head, Toris replied, "Ne, it was only a hug...hugs don't hurt, Ivan - m-master Ivan!" He started quivering at his slip-up almost immediately, remembering the result of his last one.

However, Ivan seemed to ignore him, staring ahead with a dreamy look to his face. "Hmf..." Making a small noise in his throat, he turned his head towards Toris and looked him up and down, then turned his head again, blushing softly at his cheeks. "It felt good." He confessed in a whisper, toiling with his scarf. "Touching you like that feels good."

"O-oh." Toris didn't know whether to be creeped out or flattered. The goodness inside his heart was telling him to take this as a sign of Ivan's affection, but the pain in his back was warning him against having any feelings at all towards the boy. Feeling conflicted, he heaved a quiet sigh and stared off the edge of the bed. 'His bed is soft.' He told himself, trying to keep his mind of things. Not paying attention, he ended up leaning against Ivan's shoulder with weary eyes.

"Ah...Maneken?" Ivan's face turned ripe red, and he gaped at Toris in awe. Toris paled, and was about to pull away, but Ivan's arm snaked around his waist and held him there. "Maneken..." He said again, avoiding eye contact with his slave. "Ivan needs to talk to you about something..."

"Y-yes master?" Toris asked, knowing he couldn't deny that boy anything.

"W-well, it's more of a request..." he said softly. _'A request, or a demand as my master?'_

"Anything, master." Toris half expected for Ivan to demand him to amuse him, and Toris could barely move at the moment.

The child giggled, then smiled.'

"Good Maneken. I-I...um..." Was Ivan embarrassed to ask his slave, of all people, a request?

Toris forced himself to stand, finding it not his place to sit on his master's bed. The pain was mind-numbing. He couldn't stand the pain, he wished he would die. Toris hated this life, and it's been less than a week... he knew living as Ivan's slave for the rest of his life...no, that was no way to live. Life shouldn't be miserable. But Ivan himself said he didn't want him to die, and that demonic child would probably use some form of magic to keep him alive forever. So he would be forced into eternal servitude.

"I-I want Maneken to sleep with me..." the boy buried his face into his scarf. "M-Maneken can say no, if he doesn't want to. Daddy says its bad to force people to do things they don't want to. 'Cuz mommy forced him into bed, or something. Whatever that means." Toris forced himself not to laugh at the innocence. And getting to sleep in such a grand, plush bed... he nodded quickly, smiling a real smile.

"R-really? T-that's good... we can go to bed now! Ivan really is so tired..." Ivan yawned, then patted his bed, telling his slave to come to bed. Toris nodded, and walked to the bed. He slid off his jacket, and placed it on a chair. Ivan sat on the left side of the bed, so Toris sat on the right, for a moment with his back to his master. He heard Ivan let out a whimper, as if he felt really bad about beating his slaves back.

"Ivan will give you a new shirt tomorrow, since yours now is ruined."

"Hm?" Toris glanced over his shoulder in surprise, then looked away and nodded his head rapidly. "T-thank you, master." He said, shaking slightly at the shoulders.

Before he could lay down, a hand tapped him lightly in the crook between his neck and shoulder. "Take this shirt off for now." Ivan commanded gently, and Toris felt the bed creak as he rose up out of it for a moment. "B-before we go to bed, I'll..." The child trailed off, and upon looking at him Toris saw that he was a bit shaky. "I-I'll sneak downstairs and g-get a rag and some peroxide for you." He stated, although there was apparent fear in his eyes.

Biting his lower lip, Toris rose unsteadily to his feet as well. "No, master, I'll be fine." He assured, although his back was indeed killing him. "Please...let's just go to bed." Toris knew if Ivan went out, there was a chance Miss Braginskaya would see him, and then surely ask why he was carrying medical supplies up to his room. By what had happened this far, Toris assumed the woman would not be pleased...and what of she was even worse than Ivan when she wasn't pleased?

Clearly not really wanting to go, Ivan stared at his nervously shifting feet and nodded his head. "Maneken is scared of mommy." He observed, smirking slightly as he first turned out the lights, then walked back over to the bed and hopped onto his side. Toris clambered up onto the right side of the bed, and upon seeing Ivan's eyes scouring his soiled shirt, removed the top half of his clothing and tossed it to the floor. After this, Ivan smiled again. "But that's okay." He murmured, frowning once more at the sight of Toris bruised skin. "Ivan's scared of mommy too."

With that the child let himself fall onto his back, and stared up at the ceiling with his bright eyes. Toris lay down too, only on his stomach, but he kept his head turned towards his master curiously, the shadows caressing his face. "Why are you afraid of her? If I may ask..." He inquired in a murmur, sleepiness hitting him all of a sudden.

"I love my mommy..." Ivan said in response, a sigh escaping his lips, and a sad look on his countenance. "But she's mean to Ivan sometimes." His lips pulled together into a pout then, and he scooted forwards, pulling the large, quilted blanket over the both of them. "When Ivan was little, only five years old, he was not good at killing. One day, a boy got away. Ivan didn't try to let him go...but mommy got really mad. She had to punish Ivan, because he was a bad boy..." Quaking all over, Ivan reached up and laid a hand over his face. From the looks of it he was digging his nails into his skin as well. "Monster...Ivan is a monster..." He chocked, the darkness seeming to suffocate the usual menacing sound to his childish voice.

"Ne." Toris said in a low growl, forcing himself not to stutter. He actually felt less negativity towards the boy now, and he hesitantly reached out, and laid a delicate hand on the side of his face. "It's ok for Maneken to t-touch you?" He inquired in a whisper, curling his fingers against Ivan's soft skin. The boy nodded mutely in response, and Toris pushed himself nearer, and slid an arm beneath his master's head. "You don't have to kill anybody." He whispered hopefully. "You're not a monster."

A tremor went through Ivan's body, and he removed his hand from his face, glancing up at Toris with wide, wet eyes. "I have to." He replied in a meek voice. "Mommy said so."

Wanting to say something, but not daring, Toris looked away. Noticing his slaves discontentment, the child nudged Toris with his fingertips. "What, Maneken?" He murmured. "What do you want to say?"

Toris looked Ivan straight in the face, not even shuddering. "I think..." He began, uneasy. "I think..." Taking a deep breath, he finished, "You're stronger than your mommy."

For a moment Ivan was silent - he didn't speak nor move - and then, he reached his hand up, and twined Toris' fingers with his own. "Ivan wishes that were true..." He spoke softly, giving Toris' hand a squeeze. "Ivan wishes he could run away...with ma...with my Toris."

The child shuddered, and drew himself close, so that his body was molded against Toris' side. Toris watched him the whole time with a glum expression, wondering just how powerful Miss Braginskaya was, to strike fear into the heart of someone as scary as Ivan. 'And I guess...Ivan isn't too bad, after all.' Forcing a smile, Toris Leaned his head forwards, and rested it against Ivan's own. "Goodnight, Ivan." He told his boy-master quietly.

"Do not defy me..." Ivan grumbled, half-seriously, squeezing his fingers around Toris' hand tight, and then shutting his eyes to the darkness.

He dreamed again, unlike his unrestful sleep in his own bed. This dream was of...of his father.

_He watched as his father walked to the house, he looked upwards, and saw a Clock Tower..._

_His father, was a doctor. One that specialized in the birth of woman. Toris was only six at this time, he recalled being in school the day his dad went missing._

_The man entered the house, and a man, Mr. Jones ushered the doctor into the house. Where he went to Ms. Braginskaya, and helped deliver._

_But once she gave birth, Toris' father was quickly distraught. He approached Ms. Braginskaya, and told her the tragic news of her children. That they were dreadfully ill, deformed. The girl more so than the boy. It would take a miracle for the boy to live, the girl would undoubtly die._

_But then, trying to pump air into the girl, the boy grabbed his hand with his weak, newborn hands, and put the doctor's hand into his mouth. The man chuckled, before a sick, horrible scream erupted from him. Blood gushed down, and he tore his hand away._

_The baby boy...ate his right hand. Somehow sprouting fangs. _

_What horrified the man even more, that the demon twins lived. He wanted to kill them, remove them from this world. It seemed Ms. Braginskaya agreed, and led the doctor to the room she concealed the demonic children in._

_As soon as he entered, he planned to kill them as painlessly as possible._

_But as soon as he entered, he understood it was a trap. No mother would allow her children to be killed. She would do everything to STOP the man who wanted to harm her babies. Ms. Braginskaya locked the man inside, and painted over the door where no one would ever find him._

_He was never seen again._

Toris was awoken with a painful jolt, his beaten back hurt less today, but he still couldn't work. He also didn't think he could get away with sleeping all day again. The dream of his father was...disturbing to say the least. He doubted his father came HERE, of all places. The place he was turned into a slave and lost most of his dignity... his father would be so ashamed of his son...

Toris saw his master was still asleep, but he also couldn't start his chores without a shirt. He was also so tired... he couldn't help but to fall back asleep in the warm, plush bed.

When Toris woke up again, it was late morning. He was a bit panicky at first, thinking he should go and make Ivan and Miss Braginskaya breakfast, but he soon discovered his young master was still asleep. In fact, Ivan's restless sleeping was what had essentially woken Toris up the second time - the boy had stared whining and kicking in his sleep.

For a while, Toris just stared at him, wanting to wake him up, but not daring for fear that it might be seen as wrong, and Ivan would hurt him for it. Therefore, he resorted to just waiting, and sat up on the bed, watching Ivan sleep with a patient expression. He let his thoughts drift back to the eerie dream he had earlier, and the face of his father came to mind. 'Why did I have to dream such a thing..?' Toris wondered, a bit concerned for his mental health.

A sigh came out of Ivan, interrupting Toris from his thoughts. He glanced down at the boy, who was twitching and writhing about in his sleep. Strange, melancholy expressions kept crossing his face, and it unnerved Toris. Besides that, worry was growing inside him: he needed to get to work.

Deciding to take initiative and start being productive on his own, Toris forced his unstable, aching body out of bed, and straightened up. His muscles creaked with ache as he did so, and, being pulled, the bruises stung with a more intense pain than before. Still, he needed to do something, or he was sure Ivan would get mad at him, so he picked up the tattered remains of his old shirt, and started using it to clean things.

The sunlight was blazing through the shattered window as Toris used the blood-stained fabric to wipe dust off the chifforobe, and anything else in need of cleaning. 'Maybe I should try to find more about this house...' He thought absentmindedly when he paused to stick his head out the window and intake a breath of fresh air. 'Once I heal, I'll find the flower garden again, and escape through there...' The funny thing was, in his mind, he imagined Ivan coming with him for a second; the pair exited the iridescent garden, holding hands warmly as the strolled beneath the arch of merry purple morning glory, and met the shining, bright sun outside...but no, bringing Ivan would be impossible, and besides that, Ivan would be more likely to stop Toris. 'Still...' The boy pondered as he carefully scrubbed at a vase containing wilted buttercups. 'I wonder if Ivan's ever seen that garden...he said he wanted to see beautiful things...'

"Toris."

The sound of his own name snapped him out of his thoughts so abruptly, that the delicate vase almost fell from Toris fragile fingers. Luckily, he was agile, and he caught it just in time, setting it upright on the chifforobe it had been resting upon. "Y-yes, master?" He stammered, still quite scared of the boy.

Ivan rubbed his eyes wearily and sat up in bed, yawning to himself for a moment. "What are you doing, Maneken?" He asked, reverting to Toris' slave name, and sounding bored. There were slight red rings rimming the crescent bottoms of his eyes, and his hair was a muss of ashen fuzz. "Do you like flowers?" He giggled, staring towards the vase with longing.

"I-I was cleaning, actually." Toris said softly in response and he held up the tattered shirt for Ivan to see. "I-I didn't know what to d-do, I..." He trailed off numbly, not knowing what to say.

A smile broke across Ivan's face at that, and he grasped his scarf with both hands, flustering. "Maneken, come here~!" He chirped, pulling one hand away from the soft fabric around his neck to pat his knee with. Not comprehending, Toris cautiously came forwards, and stood beside the bed. "No, come here." Ivan emphasized, although this only caused Toris to tremble. "Here!" He said again, excitement in his voice as he tapped his fingers against the top of his knee.

Bowing his head, Toris murmured, "I-I don't understand..."

Before he could say 'my master', Ivan was grabbing his hands and yanking him forwards. "A...um...hug!" He squeaked happily. "Ivan wants a hug!"

Seeing the innocence in the child's gestures, Toris began to smile. It was a very small smile, but a smile all the same. "Oh...alright..." He said, and he stepped closer, spreading his arms slightly to accept Ivan into a hug.

Being turned to the side slightly, Ivan had to rotate around to hug his slave, and when he did this the long, loose end of his scarf came whipping around with him, and hit Toris square in the face. Unfortunately, it also took the privilege of wrapping its self around Toris' neck, causing him to stumble and fall, and since Ivan was sitting right in front of him with open arms, he fell right on top of the large child.

"Unf!" Ivan grunted when he hit the bed with extra weight added on top of him. He stared at his own scarf with fury, as it was still caught around Toris' throat.

Shivering, Toris began to fumble with it, trying to yank it off, but it seemed to have gotten stuck around him, somehow. "Agh...I-I'm s-s-sorry, master..." He stuttered fearfully, tugging at the fabric around his neck.

Shaking his head with irritation, Ivan arched himself forwards and began messing with it as well. "Let...go!" He yelled at the scarf, infuriated when it wouldn't come undone - it seemed to have somehow gotten in a knot... As if the scarf would listen if he spoke to it, Ivan began snapping, "Stop it! Obey me now, you piece of fuzz! Get off! Gaah!" and shaking his finger at it, scolding.

Finally, Toris grabbed Ivan's wrist, which was tugging the scarf the wrong way, and causing Toris' oxygen supply to become limited. "L-let me do it, master..." He mustered the courage to say, looking Ivan in the face unflinching for once; he wasn't even phased by the child's deformities.

"Nyet!" Ivan snapped, lowering his eyes so it seemed he was staring straight at Toris' bare stomach. "Nyet..." He repeated again, although his time he sounded quieter, and defeated.

Reaching behind himself, Toris quickly undid the scarf; it wasn't so hard once he concentrated on it, and didn't panic. "There, you see?" He laughed quietly, pulling the scarf away from him. Much to his dismay he pulled it a little too hard, and the whole thing tumbled off of Ivan's neck and onto the floor. Toris' back started hurting a lot at the sight of it, and his heart boomed in his chest.

"Maneken!" Ivan cried out in dismay, grabbing onto Toris' hair angrily and giving it a sharp tug. "Bad Mane-" He was cut off as Toris' face came crashing onto his chest, as Ivan had pulled the boy's hair perhaps a big too hard. A squeak of surprise came out of the child's mouth, and Toris tried to get up, fear bubbling in his stomach like no tomorrow...

And then Miss Braginskaya walked in.

"What are you doing to my son?!" She cried. Toris understood that the scene must have looked bad, with him shirtless, laying his head on Ivan's chest. Ivan had his legs spread and Toris' body rested between them. Ivan's finger's laid entwined into Toris' shaggy brown locks.

Before Ivan or Toris could react, Ms. Braginskaya gripped the slave's hair and began dragging him. Literally dragging him, catching the boy off guard at the start. Moments later he got to his feet, but she wouldn't allow him to raise his head.

"Mommy! Don't hurt Maneken! You don't under-" Ivan was silenced.

"I don't care _what _happened. I'm punishing him this, _slut,_ time." They approached the attic. Ms. Braginskaya pressed her hand on his back and shoved him, hard. Toris lunged foreword and landed on the floor. Tears drew marks down his face, his back hurting more than ever.

"Slave. You are to stay in here for the next two days, forbidden to leave, or eat." She chuckled cruelly. She ushered the panicked look on Ivan's face away and forced him to leave the room. She then left the room herself and looked the door behind her. Toris eyes widened and he moved to the handle, shaking it rapidly and banging on the door. He screamed to be let out, before quickly silencing himself, realizing that screaming might make his situation worse.

He walked to his mattress, and sat on top of it. He couldn't imagine spending the whole day in here, god knows how he could handle two more. He let out a pitiful, his shoulders shook and shills ran down his beaten back.

Ivan could be nice, and was livable with. But with being treated like a slave, beaten, locked up, h-he just couldn't handle it!

Toris jumped at the cawing of a crow in his room. And stared at it. Hoping for amusement, he whistled to the crow, which snapped its neck to the brunette, cawing in response. It flew down and landed somewhat close to Toris, moments later crawling up onto his extended finger.

Toris smiled, and wrapped his fingers around the birds body. He walked to the window and opened it. He tossed the crow out, in which spread his majestic black wings, catching wind and flying away.

_"I hope I find a way out too."_

**Okay, what the fudge is a chifforobe?**

**My laptop says it's not even a word...**

**(9,181 words.)**

**Vanya, you start next!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I honestly don't even know why this story twisted the way it did… XD**

**I'm updating this now to see if it will keep Vanya awake. O.o…. Cuz iz stalkerish like dat.**

**And yes, Neeky-Chan, you are a victim to die. Including Himiwari-chan.**

The first day was awful. Toris felt like he was going to die from the silence that surrounded him in the dark, suffocating attic, and he was sure it was slowly driving him insane. He had gotten a restless night's sleep the night before, and awoken in the early morning to a throbbing pain in his back. He really wanted to do something to pass the time, but there was nothing at all to do; he had left his shirt-rag in Ivan's room, and he sure wasn't going to take off anything else to clean!

One of the worse things was thirst. Hunger itself was horrible, but being thirsty was even worse. Toris found himself lying against the door and swallowing saliva repetitively, pretending it was water. Sometimes he tapped the door and whined soft pleas for just a small glass...but of course no one answered him.

Then there was the matter of having to go to the bathroom. There was really no where for Toris to relieve himself, and he had been holding it in all morning. It felt like daggers were being punched into his organs, and stretching them out, but still Toris tried to refrain from going in what was now his room. He couldn't stand the thought of degrading himself any further...

When the sun was blazing in the sky, alerting Toris that it was day, the boy stood by his open window and stated out of it, whimpering lightly under his breath because of all the pains he was feeling. He remembered the crow he had set free the other day and sighed to himself, wishing he had wings, and could fly away into the sunset, and leave this place behind.

"Let me out of this place..." He croaked weakly, sinking to his knees.

The pain from needing to use the restroom was getting stronger. He had to go really bad, and he didn't know how, seeing how thirsty he was.

Maybe...

No! Drinking his own urine was out of the question! He might be dying of thirst, but he refused to do something that disgusting!

He went to the window, and did something he was ashamed of.

He urinated out of the window.

And boy, it felt good to relieve himself.

He looked down, and saw he watered some rose bushes. Chuckling softly, hoping they would die.

Oh god, he is going insane! He loved flowers, and he might have just killed some! Guilt washed over him, and he would have screamed at Ms. Braginskaya to free him, but his throat was so dry.

He went to the door, still so thirsty; he knocked softly, begging for some water. This was torture, the hunger and thirst felt unbearable. He wished Ivan did kill him. He couldn't live like this!

When he got let out, he planned to run away.

Once the third day came about, Toris just couldn't move. In the past five days, he's only had a bowl of borscht. When Ivan finally unlocked the door, the boy was nice enough to bring his slave some pelmeni and water. Toris was so grateful that he had to force himself to eat slowly and not down the delicious food. Ivan wouldn't look at Toris, and it made him feel as if he did something wrong.

"Master?"

"Here." Ivan handed Toris his old, ragged shirt.

"M-Master?" Toris took the rags, and understood almost immediately that he was supposed to wear it. "I-I thought..."

"Mommy won't let me." He stood quickly and left, leaving the door open.

The tattered shirt felt awful against his skin; not only was it ripped to shreds and stained with blood, but it was also covered with the grime Toris had cleaned from Ivan's room. Shaking quietly, the boy stood in his open doorway and felt the cool air against his skin. It had started to get stuffy in his attic, and the change was well-deserved, but Toris was afraid to come out of his room now. He didn't want to see Miss Braginskaya. He didn't want to go back to Ivan treating him as if he were dirt, either...

"No." The boy said aloud, grinding his teeth together determinedly. Chest heaving, he took a tentative step forwards, and stood with his hands balled into fists at his side. His body was excessively damp with sweat and his skin hot, although it shouldn't have been to the extent it was. 'I am not going back to this life.' He told himself gravely. Slowly, Toris began to make his way down the hallway. His movement was slow and shaky, and his body wanted to fall to the floor in a heap with each step he forced himself to take. His stomach seemed to have shrunk to the size of a peach-pit, and his back felt as bad as the deformed side of Ivan's face looked.

The sound of a piano playing alerted Toris that Miss Braginskaya was not in her room. It was no matted though, although he would have rather left her breakfast at the table by her door. Yes, Toris had a plan.

Going downstairs to the kitchen, the slave quickly began to whip up breakfast. Not really caring if the food was brilliant, Toris made simple porridge. Since there was a little extra, new foods in the refrigerator, Toris added blueberries into it for flavor, then sliced other various fruit and set them aside. He moved almost carelessly as he wrapped up his meal with two cups of steaming tea.

Setting the breakfast upon the silver carrying tray, Toris began browsing around the kitchen. After a little while, he found something of use: a small, metal bucket, which normally would be used to carry soapy water around during cleaning. Smirking, the boy quickly laid a paper towel at the bottom of it, dumped the renaming fruit upon it, and shoved it back underneath the cabinets. 'Supplies.' He thought with a slightly demented smile.

Wanting to get seeing Miss Braginskaya over as soon as possible, Toris went to where she was first. 'How could you do this to me...?' He wondered resentfully as he gently rapped his fingers on the door, then entered with the tray and scooped Miss Braginskaya's breakfast up in his free hand. "Here is your breakfast, Mistress." He muttered softly as he set her porridge, fruit, and tea on a stool beside the grand, luxurious piano. He then presumed to bow lightly, and turn to leave, only to find the orphan matron's sharp nails claw at his wrist. Wincing, he looked back at her, hatred in his gaze.

"Ah? Angry are you? Little whore." The woman chuckled with a sharp-toothed grin, her dark blue eyes glittering like shards of glass, and wrinkle lines appearing around her mouth were she was stretching her grin. Pulling Toris close, and almost causing him to drop the remaining food on the tray, she hissed in his ear. "You know, I never took _you_, of all those kids, to be the faggot, Toris." Miss Braginskaya's crushing grip tightened at that. "I always figured it would be that Feliks, but it turns out you're the filth amongst jewels. Of _course_ Ivan would choose you, out of everyone!"

Gripping the tray tighter, Toris merely looked away. In a little while, he would never have to see or hear this woman's words again. Sure, maybe he would end up homeless...but even that was better than being a slave.

"And you don't even have anything to say about it, you shameless fudge-packing bastard!" Miss Braginskaya laughed, although her countenance was dark and menacing.

Standing up, she lashed out all of a sudden, striking Toris harshly across his cheek and causing him to crash to the ground. The tray spilled its contents all over the floor, oozing white porridge, brown tea, and mashed fruit. Toris' forehead slammed into the tray's upturned handle as he hit the floor, so when he finally came to his senses and drew himself up to his knees, there was a gash above his right eyebrow; there was also blood dripping from a cut on his lip, and a hot red handprint on the left side of his face.

"Clean that up." The woman commanded icily upon hearing Toris let out a cried whimper of pain. She then kicked her foot into his ribs, sending him to the floor once more, where he laid submissively, hair soaking up the tea. "Oh, and don't expect Ivan to be merciful if you don't bring him breakfast." She added with a sneer, and then Miss Braginskaya sat back down and resumed playing the piano as if nothing had occurred, and Toris wasn't really there.

The slave hurriedly pushed as much of the mess onto the tray that he could, and then fled from the room.

The food was beyond fixing, and it was almost ten. There was no way he could make another meal in time, and-No. He couldn't think like that! He ran to the kitchen and dumped the mush of food and tea into the garbage. He quickly began making more porridge for his master, slicing up more fruit and making another pot of tea. His thoughts pondered on what it would be like to be in Ivan's position, to have a slave and not have to do any work. To command that slave and, well, Toris would be a nice master, he knew it. He would barely have a slave; he'd probably do most the work anyways.

His stomach growled, and he decided to eat something quickly. He opened the fridge, and saw a peach. He took a bite into the sweet, ripe goodness. The skin felt like velvet in his mouth, and the juices felt similar to acid, burning his still-dry tongue with its divine taste.

He got to the pit, not wanting to stop eating the fruit of the heavens. Toris tossed the pit into the trash and washed off the tray, drying it and putting the food onto the tray.

Leaving the kitchen, he was planning on quickly running to Ivan's bedroom; in fear his master would be displeased. He tried to forget his throbbing forehead and back, and the bitter sweet copper penny taste that once more invaded his mouth from the blood.

He rounded another corner for the third time, crashing right into Ivan, holding a stuffed bear.

"Maneken..." Ivan looked down, Toris spilling his food for the second time that morning. His, as well as his masters, clothes were covered in the yucky porridge. Toris tried to clean it up, but when he looked at Ivan, just to see how angry he was.

It was how the light hit Ivan, shadowing out the deformed side of his face, making it just obsidian nothingness. His violet eye shined in the side that hit the sun, but the half in the shadows glowed a menacing maroon. A long trail of tears flowed down from the left side, catching the light and glistening.

"Bad Maneken. You deserve punishment."

Before he could stop himself, a gasp escaped his mouth. No. Toris could _not_ handle another beating. He had only just began healing from his last one, and his mind was still recovering from the two and a half days he had spent locked up without food, water, or a restroom. He contemplated running, but seemed to know Ivan would find him anyways, and then things would only be worse.

"P-please..." The boy choked out meekly, shaking uncontrollably all over. He noticed Ivan staring at his cut up face and suddenly couldn't take it anymore. Toris began to cry.

Loud sobs were released from his throat as he sank to the floor at Ivan's feet; his hands, knees, and clothing getting filth and spilled food on them. The tears dropped down Toris' face in hot rivers of agony, and he lowered himself even more, unable to think of any other way to save himself. Toris crawled forwards and wrapped his arms despairingly around Ivan's right leg, and lay completely on the ground, his forehead on the child's foot. "Please, master, please..." He hiccupped, tears continuously pouring down.

When Toris looked up, Ivan's mouth was twisted into a straight line, and his eyes were full of a strange, distant pain. "Maneken..." He murmured softly, wiping the tears off his own face with swift fingers. "Stand up, Maneken."

Swallowing a gasping sob, Toris slowly pulled away, and picked himself up off the floor, facing Ivan with wide, glittering eyes. "I-I-I didn't m-m-mean t-to." He stammered uneasily, clenching his hands so hard that his nails dug into his own palms. "P-please!"

Ivan stared at him and tilted his head to the side slightly. Cautiously, the large child reached out his hand and grabbed Toris' face in his fingers. He looked...morose.

"Please, master Ivan... Please don't hurt me..." Toris pleaded.

Ivan chuckled cruelly.

"But Maneken's been so bad lately! He really does deserve punishment. Are you denying your master something, slave?" Ivan said, not seeming entirely focused, as if this was an unneeded task. Toris' body froze up, and his shoulders lurched forward in terror.

"M-master...I-I...it was...a-an accident. I-I, p-please...I-I can't take another p-p-punishment, I just can't!" He cried, breathing in short, panicked breathes.

"Here. Your outfit is ruined. Let me get you a new one." Ivan turned away. "You can clean this up later."

Toris didn't understand, this had to be some form of punishment. Toris lowered his head and stared at the ground. He followed his master obediently, using his sleeves to wipe away his tears. Ivan approached a linens closet and started fumbling through it.

"This isn't your punishment; I just simply have to have my slave looking his best, da?" He smiled, before handing Toris some clothes. "Go change in the bathroom, /now/ Maneken. Then come back." Ivan's voice hinted danger, to where Toris grabbed the clothes and ran to the nearest restroom.

He shivered as he placed the clothes in the sink. He stared at his ruined clothes that were covered in food, blood, and dirt. He looked down at the black cotton clothes Ivan gave him, and lifted it up.

It was a dress.

A _maids_ dress to be exact, including a white, frilly lace top and and an apron. The dress would go down to his knees, and he saw a pair of high socks that went along with the horribly degrading dress.

Toris feared whatever Ivan was going to him would be worse if he didn't wear the dress. He let out a choked sob as he slid off his rags he used as a shirt and tossed them in the trash. He took off his pants and set them aside in the corner, he still wanted those.

He looked at his almost naked frame in the mirror, given he wore boxer briefs. Toris stared at himself, disgusted by the bruises that littered his porcelain skin. He shook as he turned around and twisted his neck to look at his back.

Seeing the red, infected wounds surrounded by awful dark purple bruises. Tears began coming down once more, and he chose to grab the goddess awful dress and slid it on. Pulling on his thick socks and his boots back on. He looked back into the mirror, and was ashamed to say he was slightly aroused. He looked awfully feminine.

He shook as he went back to where Ivan was, his master looked at him, and bit his lip. A soft red blush came across the normal side of his face before he nuzzled his scarf.

"Here, Maneken." Ivan handed another thing to Toris, and Ivan didn't look to happy to be giving it to him.

It was a dog collar.

Toris flinched as he took it and hooked it around his neck. Ivan frowned and motioned for Toris to follow.

'So being in a maids dress and getting collared isn't enough?!' Toris shook as he followed behind his master.

It bothered him how his legs rubbed together, and he really wished he was wearing pants right now.

Ivan walked outside with his slave in tow. He walked to the front gate, and fiddled with something around a tree. Toris stared at the open gate, longing for his freedom from this wretched place.

"Maneken, come here."

"Yes master." Toris obeyed, going up to Ivan.

Ivan held a leash, and hooked it around his slave's collar.

"Maneken, I want you to stare out at the world beyond that gate. I know you're planning to run away, and monster Ivan won't allow it. Maneken is _my _property and I won't allow him to leave." Ivan giggled, before going to the gate, and shutting it. Pulling a key out of his pocket, and locking the gate. He then walked back towards his house, but before going past Toris, he said with a sad look;

"Toris, you can come back in once you think you learned your lesson. I'll make my own breakfast."

Toris spent a long time just standing by the gate and staring out into the world. The sun was blazing a beautiful yellow on in the distant sky, and sunlight seeped through his thin, maid's clothing and caressed his skin. 'Ivan's a nine year old.' The slave mused as he shut his eyes to the welcoming heat. 'How did he think up _this_ as a punishment?' Voicing a sigh, the slave heaved his shoulders and brooded.

'I want to run away.' He thought to himself as he ran his fingers over the gate longingly. He wanted so badly to just yank it open and dash as far as he could...but he knew deep down that he would be caught. The cool metal felt peculiar against his skin, and he pulled his hand away slowly, a frown on his face as he reached up to his neck and felt the collar. 'So we are back to square one again...' His eyebrows furrowed. 'Except now I'm a dog...no...A whore.' He added, feeling his clothes shift uncomfortably around him.

The word whore brought a strange feeling into Toris' stomach, and he suddenly felt quite ill. He didn't even know if Ivan _knew _any bad words. The boy only screamed, he needn't use cussing, but as for Miss Braginskaya...she had said 'whore'. She had called Toris all sorts of wretched names! Perhaps, somehow, this was her doing.

Instead of acting on his feelings and fleeing the mansion then and there, Toris turned and padded back towards the house. He held himself stiff and high as he did so, giving his all not to tremble. When he entered the home, he took in a deep breath.

"Master?" He asked softly as he walked around corner-to-corner. Shadows seemed to dance upon the walls, taunting him as he passed by. The smell of recent cooking caught Toris' nose as he went by the kitchen, and upon following the smell, Toris found himself inside a randomized room.

"Master." He said again upon seeing the boy; Ivan was crouched in a chair, eating some strange type of Russian food Toris hadn't seen before.

Looking up from his meal, Ivan slowly set his silverware and the like upon the table beside him, rising to his feet with a curious expression on his face. "Has Maneken learned his lesson now?" He inquired probingly, taking a small step closer to Toris.

Swallowing chills, Toris looked at Ivan's hands, keeping his countenance serene. "Yes, I have, master." He stated blatantly, his tone emotionless.

"Oh, good boy!" Ivan chirped in reply, patting Toris upon the head. He looked as if he were about to say more - probably utter a command or the like - but Toris hurriedly spoke up before he did so, respectful, all the same.

"I also have something for you, m-master." He said, eyes shining like diamonds in a dark cave, glistening and sparkling with thousands of pairs of light. He held his arms stiffly at his sides, mind whirring and turning like a clock as he slowly modified his plan on escape, his plan on happiness.

A grin of delight crossed Ivan's lips. "Really?" He squeaked. "Let Ivan have it!"

Toris stepped forwards cautiously, chest shivering as it went up and down...

And then he hugged him.

Ivan froze up at the hug, and Toris feared his master didn't find it was Toris' place, he wasn't allowed to touch him without Ivan's permission, and instantly expected his back to be beaten again.

But he was wrong, because Ivan began shaking, before sobbing loudly. Tears flooded down his face, looking almost grey on the deformed half. He began choking on his own tears as he kept his face buried in his slave's chest.

"Мни так жал... так жал!" Ivan sobbed. Toris placed his hand on Ivan's head and ruffled his hair.

"Why are you sorry, m-master?" Toris asked.

Ivan didn't answer at first, just crying, soaking Toris' dress, staining it with his salty tears.

"Ivan-" he hiccupped. "I didn't want to do it. Mommy said that w-when punishing my s-slave, I should inflict mental punishments I-instead of j-just physical a-and told me to hook you up and make you stare your freedom in the face orsomethingofthelikes. A-and to put you in a maids dress to degrade you f-f-f-further."

So it _wasn't_ Ivan's idea to punish him like that. It was Ms. Braginskaya's, which actually made a lot more sense, seeing the harsh of a mental punishment.

"It's okay, m-master." Toris stuttered. The maids dress was awkward and uncomfortable, and the collar was just degrading, but he dare not take it off. Seeing since it was a 'gift' from his owners, taking it off would probably get him beat again.

"Нееееееет! Я...я... я не знауо..." he muttered. Ivan was speaking Russian Toris couldn't comprehend, and just continued to hold his master until he finally stopped sobbing.

"Maneken..." Ivan pushed his slave away.

"Yes, master?"

"G-go clean up the mess you made." He ordered, before returning to his seat, and food.

"R-right away, master." Toris bowed, despite the fact Ivan was no longer looking.

Ivan pierced his food, stabbing it sharply.

"Why are you still here, slave?" He growled, as Toris began to shake, and left the room.

Stunned and a bit dizzy, Toris made his way back into the hallway and cleaned up the food. Some of it was impossible to obscure, however, especially the tea, which had soaked into the carpet and would now most definitely stain. 'I can't run away now.' The slave thought morosely as he scrubbed away at the carpet desperately, soaking up as much that he could, although most of it was dry.

Still, the remembrance to Ivan, and how the child felt as he quivered like a frightened, guilty babe made Toris blush at the face. It was quite an odd thing, to hold his master in his arms...almost as if, for that small moment, Ivan had ceased being his master, and become his friend. Toris sighed to himself as he stood from where he was on the ground, and wiped his brow daintily. The wet rag he grasped hung limply from his fingers. As he trotted back into the kitchen to dispose of his cleaning supplies, he thought to himself: 'Maybe it would be better if I stay...' But then the haunting memory of Ravis being pulled into the dark depths of the swimming pool brought him out of his thoughts. No. He would not feel /this/ way towards the boy who'd murdered Ravis!

The sound of sharp shoes clicking down the hallway made Toris stiffen up, and he quickly grabbed a dirty plate and began to pretend he was cleaning it. Luckily, Miss Braginskaya did not pause to check on his duties, and he was able to heave his shoulders with relief. 'I don't really want to clean...' He moaned inwardly, dropping the plate in the sink lightly. By the absence of Miss Braginskaya's footsteps, Toris assumed she had gone to where Ivan was.

Now, this could be interesting.

Grabbing some carpet cleaner and a rag from the cabinet beneath the sink, Toris snuck back into the hall and knelt in front of the room Ivan and his mother were in. He wasn't trying to eavesdrop, of course not! He just really wanted to clean that annoying tea stain...or at least, that was the lie he formed in his mind.

"...needs to eat." Toris heard Miss Braginskaya saying from inside the room. Her voice was slightly muffled and hard to make out, but he strained his ears to listen. "I'll need to bring some new guests soon." She rambled on, and Toris shuddered, knowing she meant more orphans, likely. "Are you up to the task, son?" She inquired. "Or are you going to try and adopt more whores?"

"N-Nyet..." Ivan stammered meekly, sounding as though he were only half paying attention. Toris bristled at being called a whore, and scrubbed at the carpet even harder. "I will bring sister food, mommy." He agreed softly.

A scoff came from Miss Braginskaya, and it sounded as if she were pacing the room; faint scuffling noises reached Toris' ears. "You better." The woman warned darkly. "You've been disappointing me greatly of late."

A faint frown swept across Toris' lips and he pressed them together harshly, until the blood drained from them, and then continued scrubbing the tea stain with a new ferocity. "...mommy?" Ivan's voice said hesitantly after a while. "Can I have a hug?"

All of a sudden Miss Braginskaya laughed, the sound of her voice booming throughout the house. "_Why?_" She snorted gruffly. "Only weaklings _hug_! Where did you even learn that? Is that what Toris told you as an excuse for trying to fuck you?"

A quiet cracking noise crept into Ivan's voice - a mixture of shock and confusion. Toris felt equally shocked. "F-fuck?" Ivan whimpered, obviously not understanding at all. "M-Maneken wasn't trying to hurt me." He assured softly. "M-Maneken is a-actually a g-good person..."

The child's voice trailed off, and Toris realized he was shaking. The wet, dirty rag that was in his hand was being clenched so tight that water was dropping out of it in oozing, long droplets. '_Why_ is he defending me?!' He wondered, aghast, mouth falling open in awe. Suddenly the slave felt like he shouldn't be listening to this conversation. He began to rise to his knees, wanting to leave as soon as possible.

"A _good_ person?!" Miss Braginskaya snapped, infuriated. "He would kill you as soon as he got the chance!" A whine of fear came from within the room from Ivan, and that scared Toris so much he thought he would fall over. "You think Maneken - this _pet_ of yours - has any feelings for you? Well, you're wrong. He _hates_ you. He thinks you look like a monster, that's all he thinks; _Ivan is a monster_! He must be destroyed! He is _evil_!"

After she finished yelling, everything slipped into gradual silence. Terrified, Toris backed up against the wall, his carpet cleaner clutched in one hand, and rag in the other. His chest heaved with ragged breaths as he kept his eyes glued on the door, fearing one of his manipulative rulers would emerge at any second.

Instead, he heard Ivan's voice again.

"Mommy..." The child murmured softly. "I'm in love with my Maneken-."

_SLAP! _

Toris heard the sound of the blow, and could tell it was harsh by the way it rang in his ears. He didn't stay anymore after that; Toris gathered his cleaning supplies close to his chest and ran as fast as he could down the hall, heart beating in his chest and pushing hot blood all the way up to his ears.

'He confessed his love for me...he loves me...'

That was the last thing Toris wanted to hear, that ...that the boy who murdered Raivis /loved/ him. Toris' hopes on freedom were shattered. Ivan, Ivan...Ivan loved him, and that possessive child actually loved something, Toris doubted he would let it go.

He would be a slave...f-forever.

To clean, cook, follow orders, and get beaten if he misbehaves or messes up. To get called whore, be forced to kill people for this...Natalia...and to fall back asleep on the dirtied mattress just to wake up the next day to start it all over again...

It was no way to live.

Yet there was no way he could run away. He couldn't return to the orphanage, and living on the streets would get him nowhere. And it probably wouldn't take Ivan long to find him either...

The only way out would be to kill himself.

He had access to knives, or he could do a quick and simple suicide, find a rope, make a noose and hang himself.

He put the cleaning supplies away, depression taking over him.

He reached under the frills of his dress, and pulled out a golden cross, with the man of Jesus on it.

_'Everyone is responsible for his life before God who has given it to him. It is god who remains the sovereign Master of life. We are obliged to accept life gratefully and preserve it for his honor and salvation of our souls. We are stewards, not owners, of the life God has entrusted us. It is not ours to dispose of_.' The line trailed across his memory. He learned many passages on the paths of suicide by his father, for his mother committed suicide before Toris was even born.

Suicide is a sin, and nothing would be gained.

There was no way out. Toris couldn't help but let out a sharp, loud giggle. One would have said it was psychotic...

There had to be a way out! He racked his mind for ideas, until an ending of a verse came into his mind.

'Grave psychological disturbances, anguish, or grave fear of hardship, suffering, or torture can diminish the responsibility of one committing suicide.'

Suffering...

Torture...

Psychological disturbances...

It wouldn't be a sin...

His suicide wouldn't be a sin!

Shaking and laughing all over, Toris dropped everything he was holding on the ground. 'Yes.' He thought. 'I can be rid of this wretched life, and there will be no punishment...I-I can do this!' His body felt abnormally cold and slick with sweat but still he made his way along, the only question in his mind at the moment was how would he kill himself in the most effective way?

Since he had no rope, Toris decided the next easiest way to put an end to himself would be by slitting the arteries at his wrist. He did have something sharp - his shard of glass - and, reaching into the pocket of his maid's outfit, he fingered it lightly; he had put the weapon in there when he had changed. 'I hope it is sharp enough...' He thought absentmindedly as he made his way throughout the house, searching for a room that he could do it in, where no one would be barging in on him.

Tears were creeping down Toris' face by the time he had walked down numerous hallways and doors, until finally he stepped into a darkened room he had never entered before. It was tinted a slight pink, as he could observe, and the floor was a navy blue color. A baby's bed was in the corner of the room, and the sight of it send shivers up Toris' spine.

Was this were Ivan _used _to sleep? Cautiously, Toris went over to the bed, feeling sick to his stomach when the scent of death and anguish hit him in the face. Rustic, bloody handprints littered the soft sky-blue sheets, and trailed onto the floor. Toris didn't really want to know what happened here to cause that.

Turning around to face the door he had come in through, Toris got upon his knees on the floor. There was a porcelain doll lying on the floor in front of him, face up, smiling with painted red lips and glistening brown eyes. It almost looked alive.

'Ignore these childish things...' Toris demanded himself, although it was hard not to stare at the grinning, demonic clown that was leering at him from across the room; it sat by the door on top of an old, cracked toy chest.

"Damn it all!" Toris suddenly cursed, digging his hand into his pocket and pulling out the shard of glass so ferociously that it tore a bit of the fabric. His shoulders were lurching up and down with unspoken emotions and his hands shook as he raised the glittering, translucent weapon before his eyes.

_'I love my Maneken.'_ The words rang in Toris' ears, causing him to crumple in on himself ever-so-slightly. "I cannot live through this insanity..." He croaked meekly, speaking aloud because, well, it made it feel like he wasn't going to die alone and friendless in a creepy child's room surrounded by demonic dolls and bloody hand prints.

Soft, wet tears streaked down Toris' snow white cheeks as he placed the glass over his left wrist, breathing heavily. "No more..." He gasped aloud, pressing harshly into his skin. For a second, the pain made him want to stop, but then he recalled that the pain of being beaten was far greater, and far more shameful. No. He was ending this nightmare here and now.

Choking on pain, the slave dug the shard of glass even deeper into his skin, drawing a satisfying red color to the surface. It squirted upwards onto his fingers when he twisted the glass sharply into his wrist, and dribbled down to his palm, then slipped onto the floor. He kept pressing and grinding the glass into himself, harder and harder... Just when he thought he wasn't going to be able to take it anymore, he heard the awful, bitter-sweet noise of something thick being slashed open. All of a sudden blood was everywhere. It flew up to Toris' face and splashed all over him, littering his lips in perfect crimson and spraying the floor in its redness as well. A cry escaped Toris' mouth and he fell to the floor, upon his stomach, body quivering from pain and terror.

But he would finally be free.

He wouldn't be a slave anymore.

The red pool that was building around Toris grew larger, and a brighter color of red and he smiled whenever it lapped at his face. He must look so beautiful right now, he fancied, covered in this bright crimson, lying face down and submissive upon the contrasting navy carpet. Miss Braginskaya would be so happy when she discovered him dead here. Ivan would probably be angry that he had killed himself, he supposed.

Either way, Toris didn't care who found his body, or what they did with it - they could feed him to Natalia for all he cared! The only important thing now was death, and the cool, numbing feeling that was slowly creeping over him as he bled his life out. Soon, he would be reunited with his mother, wherever she was, and eventually, his father.

Soon he would be surrounded by everyone he ever loved, and everything would be fine; he would be in heaven. A sigh of bliss escaped the boy's soft, red-stained lips as he let his heavy eyelids fall shut over his eyes, and wondered how long it would take for death to fully conquer him.

The darkness finally took him over, and the pain was finally gone.

Nothing, just pure darkness. It surrounded him, mocking him.

Was this heaven? No, it was not what the bible described. Toris looked down, but he saw nothing. He screamed, but no sound was made.

Complete silence.

He no longer existed...

Attempting to close his eyes, remembering he had none. He just stayed still, not that he could move.

And prayed God would eventually take him.

He felt pain, sharp daggers in his chest. Finally it felt as if his entire body was set aflame. He screamed once more, and this time he actually heard a sound. His cry of pain.

His eyelids felt so heavy, and his strength felt so little. He forced them open, and stared at a red tinged ceiling. He heard a voice, but it was only a voice. So familiar. It brought hatred, and made his stomach hurt.

His chest throbbed, and he couldn't understand why. He laid on his back, which no longer hurt. Slowly turning his head to the voice, he saw no one.

It was as if the voice was him.

And he felt so cold...

Something was hung in front of him, it was pale, and smelt delicious. Placed in his mouth, it tasted like cookie dough, and was quite chewy.

"Toris. Sit up." A voice...Ms. Braginskaya...

When he forced his body to comply and sit up, it felt as if all the blood rushed into his head. A major headache wracked his skull, making him shudder and gasp slightly. Besides that, he felt so...hungry. He would like to taste some more of that cookie dough stuff that someone had fed him.

'I'm not dead.' He thought to himself shakily. Everything was so dark though, and it felt like tendrils of slimy fingers were winding their way around his heart. A shudder passed through him and a moan exited his throat as slowly, he forced himself to open his eyes.

The room was bathed in a red glow, and firelight scattered shadows upon the walls. Toris was sitting in the center of what seemed to be an upside-down five-point star, drawn in white chalk upon the floor. Strange symbols surrounded him, and a bowl of liquid sizzled at his feet. "Come on. Get up." Miss Braginskaya's voice demanded once more.

Shaking his head with confusion, Toris shakily pushed himself to his knees. However, he found he was unable to rise up any further than that, and he fell flat on his chest, disturbing a black candle as he did so. "A-ah..." He whimpered, his chest feeling awfully strange. He wanted to curl up in a corner and go to sleep.

The sound of someone knocking caused Toris to raise his head the slightest bit, catching sight of Miss Braginskaya's shoes as he did so. "Mommy?" Ivan's voice was asking in a whiny way from behind the door. "Is Maneken back, mommy? Can I come in now?" He sounded sad, almost like he was crying. Toris found that so funny for some reason, and started giggling where he lay upon the cold floor.

A sigh came from Miss Braginskaya, and her hips swung around as she turned towards the door. Toris thought this was hilarious as well, and squeaked all the more in pain and laughter. "Yes, baby." She murmured icily, obviously not enthused. "Come in."

The door slowly creaked open, and Toris forced himself not to scream as Ivan entered the room. Why was _he_ here? 'But, of course, Ivan and Miss Braginskaya live here.' He scolded himself, wondering why his mind was so illogical at the moment. Pain clouded his vision - his head was throbbing, and it felt like claws were slashing his chest - and Toris cried out softly.

"Maneken! You're back!" Ivan squalls merrily, dancing forwards, and falling on the floor in front of Toris, on his knees in chalk. "I-I...y-y-you were all b-bloody." He stammered, and Toris realized that he was sobbing softly. Looking up, the slave realized that his master was indeed, quite distraught, and tears were trickling down his face like waterfalls. There was a hot red welt that stretched across his face, the majority of it on the deformed side, but finger marks stretching over onto the normal part; it was obviously from when Miss Braginskaya had slapped him.

Incoherent, Toris tilted his head to the side and frowned. He almost felt as if he were drunk, although he'd never drank in his life. The boy's eyes glittered sharply as he stared up at Ivan, and slowly, he crushed his eyebrows against one another. "Hith yew." He slurred, finding it difficult to speak for some reason; his teeth didn't feel _right_ in his mouth.

Ivan stretched his fingers forwards softly and touched Toris on the cheek, the way a child would pet a sick puppy. "W-what was t-that, Maneken?" He asked quietly, shoulders moving up and down, and mouth spread out into a grin.

Taking a moment to figure out how to work his mouth, Toris sucked in a breath. Then, he lifted his hand, giggling slightly at how hard it was to move his limbs, and pointed a finger at his master. "She hit you." He said, then burst into psychotic laughter. Years suddenly bursts from his eyes and ran down his face in rivulets. "Why does she _ruin everything_?!"

"M-Maneken?" Ivan stuttered. "Please don't say that...it's not like you..."

"Oh, its fine." Ms. Braginskaya said icily. "It's a simple reaction to the procedure. He might not even know what he's saying," she shrugged. "I doubt he understands what I did to him."

"Thank you mommy." He wrapped his arms around his slave once more, clutching tightly. It was as if he truly cared for his safety.

"What... what did she do?" Toris had to bring himself to ask. Ms. Braginskaya just snorted and began to leave the room. Before leaving however, she turned her head to Toris, with a cold look.

"Toris. No matter how many times you try to commit suicide, you won't die now. You _can't_ die now, I should say." She laughed. "Your precious Catholic God has abandoned you, _demon_." She swayed her hips as she left.

"D-demon..?" Toris shook as he felt his face, curious if he had the same deformity as Ivan. When everything seemed to be in place, he looked to Ivan, who fiddled his thumbs awkwardly.

"M-mommy saved you because Ivan tried to fall into the gears of the clockworks..." he muttered.

The boy loved Toris so much that when he commits suicide, Ivan tried to follow him...

"W-why?" Toris stammered.

"Because I really love you so much..." Ivan buried his face into his scarf.

"What...did she do to me?"

"Mommy did the same thing as she did to Natalia and me. Because we were going to die after we were born. Mommy put a demon inside us so we would live. Mine entered me here." He pointed to the deformed half of his face. "Natalia's consumed her entire body, and we feed it and she gets bigger and bigger, and will eventually turn beautiful. Prettier than mommy." He paused, placing his hand on the deformed side, a grey tear running down. "Ivan's brain wasn't working right...so mine entered through the head. If Maneken noticed Ivan doesn't talk right, or acts weird..." Toris more than noticed... "Maneken's heart stopped beating... the demon is infused into Maneken's heart. Now he can't die..."

These words made the boy choke, and he slowly felt his chest, realizing he was still in that god awful dress. And the area around his heart was definitely a lot _hotter _ than the other areas. He felt so cold to, even though his skin was a normal temperature.

"Your eyes are so pretty, Maneken..." Ivan touched the boy's face, who then flinched.

"M-my eyes?" The boy stuttered.

"The demon's eyes were red, so are yours now. Mine demon's was purple; did you ever wonder why they're such an odd colour?" Ivan smiled, pointed teeth showing.

Toris didn't answer, and Ivan frowned. A blow came across his face, causing him to cry out from pain.

"You may have a demon inside of you, but you are still my slave and will respond when I speak to you." Ivan placed his hands in his lap.

"Don't you see?! This is the exact treatment I was trying to escape from!" Toris shot up, screaming. Ivan glared, before slowly standing up also.

"Mommy says I can beat you as much as I want now, you can't die from it." Ivan's fingers entwined into Toris' hair.

Before Toris knew what was happening, Ivan shoved him roughly onto the ground, and started kicking him. One of the candles near Toris toppled over, and the flames licked at his hand, causing him to scream out in pain and slap at it to put it out. All the while Ivan continues to stomp upon his chest.

"Bad Maneken! Bad!" He screeched, as if talking to an animal. Tears trickled down his face and dripped off the end of his nose. "Why can't you behave for Ivan?!" He howled viciously, throwing himself on top of Toris and taking his slaves jaw in his hand.

A squeak of fear and hurt came out of Toris as he saw Ivan raise his hand, then felt the harshness of a slap against his cheek. Wetness dripped down his face and soaked into his degrading maid's clothing. "Stop..." He begged meekly. "I-I don't want this..."

"Don't _want _this?!" Ivan laughed deeply. "You hate me!" His fist struck forwards again, landing straight upon Toris' very sensitive chest, making him scream out in agony. "You tried to leave me, so I must punish you!" Ivan continued.

Suddenly, Toris grew still. For a second Ivan's eyes glittered with worry, but then he seemed to remember that Toris couldn't die, and resumed laying blows upon the boy beneath him. "If...you...love me..." Toris gasped quietly underneath him. "W-why...do you...h-hurt m-me?" His body shook in terror and agony, and his blood-red eyes scorched Ivan's face. "D-d-don't you r-realize...that p-people don't strike the o-ones they l-l-love?"

"SHUT UP!" His master screamed, gripping his hair once more, dragging him from the room. He threw the slave to the ground, slamming the door behind him. He hooked that dreadful rope that he originally tied him up with to beat his back.

This time, Ivan looped it through his collar. When Toris tried to stand, Ivan shoved him to the ground.

"Walk on all fours, like the dog you are." He commanded.

"Ne! I will not!" He grabbed the collar, unhooked it and threw it on the floor. "I'm not a dog! I am a living, human, being! Quit being a fucking asshole and just let me DIE!" He screamed, backing away. Ivan just froze up.

"Fucking...? Asshole..?" Ivan looked at him with pure innocence. He then chuckled.

"Maneken shouldn't say bad words." He grabbed the boy's hair, which kicked and thrashed, no longer afraid of being beaten to death.

Ivan dragged the slave to the attic. He threw the poor boy on his bed before turning and leaving himself, locking the door behind him.

Toris pouted on his mattress. Tears of hatred flowing down.

It wasn't long before Ivan returned to the bedroom, carrying chains.

"W-what are you...?" Toris stammered, rising from his bed and backing away, to the window. His dress was torn from the upper part of his figure before Ivan grabbed the slave, and tied his wrists with the chains to the banisters.

His back completely exposed, pain began exploding from it once again. The more he thought about that god awful weapon, the more foreign it felt. He cried, tears flowing down, and his blood smelling stronger than ever before.

But he refused to scream for mercy.

After what seemed to be hours before Ivan stopped beating his back with whatever, his master released the chains and allowed his slave to fall to the floor with a loud thunk. Toris shook hard, the blood flowing from his back, and dizziness overcoming him.

"Come Maneken, get up. Now, you're going to amuse me." He said, pulling the boy up and dragging him to what Toris suspected to be his masters bedroom.

The whole way there Toris thrashed about, fighting Ivan's grip with everything he had, and realizing that, maybe he wasn't as weak as he had thought. "Let me go!" He snarled, tears and snot running down his face as Ivan threw him inside his bedroom and slammed the door closed behind him. Shadows whirled around, and everything seemed colder than it had been before.

"Amuse me." Ivan demanded icily, a smirk spreading across his face as he tugged his scarf so tight around his neck it looked like he would choke himself.

Fire burned inside Toris' chest and he leaped up, a snarl rumbling off of his lips. "_Amuse _you?!" He spat, shoulders heaving. His back was aflame with ache, and liquid dribbled down between his shoulder blades and hips, but Toris had realized something: he was a demon now. He could not die. He had _eternity _ to do whatever he wanted...and he sure as hell wasn't going to waste it being a slave to Ivan. He could be _stronger_. "And how would you have me /amuse/ you, Ivan?" He asked, almost tauntingly. "Do you want to watch me undress, and then stand before you stark naked as you make me bleed?!"

A faint reddish color crept over the child's lips, and his mouth opened into an 'o' of shock. "D-don't say those things, Maneken!" He snapped, violet eyes shimmering. "I'll have to punish you again." He told his slave, stepping forwards and reaching out his hand.

Tears gushed down Toris' cheeks. He couldn't take this, not anymore. An inhuman growl erupted from his throat and he shoved Ivan's hand away with demonic strength, and then charged forwards. "Punish yourself!" He screamed, hitting his body against Ivan's with all the force he had in him, and sending them both crashing into the wall. Both of them had the breath knocked out of them, and it sounded like something had been deflated.

"Y-you're my _slave_, M-Maneken." Ivan wheezed unsteadily, trying to get a hold of Toris' longish brown hair. The latter ducked out if the way.

"M-maybe so." He stammered, grabbing Ivan's wrists in his hands, and realizing for the first time just how fragile they were, how fragile the 9-year-old himself was. Toris shoved his master's wrists up against the wall, pinning them up on either side of him, just to show that he could. His blood red eyes glittered like squashed tomatoes in summer and his pointed, white teeth clicked together menacingly.

For once, Ivan actually looked afraid of him. He looked _scared _of his own slave. The child's lower lip trembled with shock and his fingers clenched in towards his hand. "Mommy will kill you if you hurt me!" He hissed gravely, biting his lip. "Mommy will _kill_ anyone who lays a hand on me!"

"You said I couldn't die." Toris replied bluntly, but he let go of Ivan's wrists. The child, seeming angry that he had shown his slave fear, pushed his hands outward and toppled Toris over, the latter falling into a heap on the ground. Ivan's shoulders were quivering up and down slightly as he stared down at Toris, and Toris only looked up at him, emotionless.

"Your mommy must be a hypocrite then." He said softly, eyes meeting Ivan's own. "She didn't kill herself." Then, all of the fight seemed to leave Toris. His adrenaline faded away and the pain in his back struck him like a sudden bought of fresh punishment. His emotionless face cracked, and he raised his trembling hands to his face, and cried.

Toris trembled and his lip quivered. Ivan seemed to do nothing but stare at him, and the slave didn't blame him, with his recent actions. This wasn't like him, and Ivan understood this. He backed away from the trembling boy, who's back hurt so bad that he couldn't fathom doing up the dress.

If he had anything else to wear, he would wear it. This dress, woman's clothing...there was nothing more degrading.

His whole life now was quite laughable. A demon boy who cross dressed, is a slave, gets beaten... he felt like he had no dignity left...

And yet he felt the urge to say this;

"M-meistras...aš-aš...atsiprasau..." he mumbled, in his own tongue.

"I don't know what you just said." Was all the shivering nine-year old could say. "But if you apologized, then it's okay. M-mommy said you would act differently at first, 'cuz it's the demon settling itself in your dead heart. Once it calms itself...mommy said you would be back to normal. She said the demon would express your thoughts... is this really what you think? Why do you hate me?" Tears slowly trickled down. The boy's mood swings were so awfully strange...

"I don't hate you, m-master." Toris said, quickly finishing his sentence due to the fact Ivan looked as if he would object. "I don't hate you. I hate what you do to me, and how you treat me." Ivan fiddled with his scarf.

"I-I don't mean to...it j-just...happens, and I feel really bad..."

"But _why?_ You already enslaved me, why must you beat me too? Is my misery not enough?"

Silence overcame the two, and both felt very awkward. It seemed as if neither of them would do anything. Toris finally grew fed up with the silence and turned to leave.

"Toris! Please, stay!" Ivan cried.

"Why should I?!" He screamed, not wanting himself to sound so harsh.

Ivan flinched, and began fiddling with his thumbs.

"C-can Ivan has a hug..?" He asked, refusing to look his slave in the eye.

Toris wanted to shun him entirely and leave to his attic room.

But what he did was walk up to the boy, and wrap his arms around him. His master buried his nose in the brunette's hair, and made a noise that could only be described as happy.

Shockingly, it was Ivan to pull away. They boy didn't let the slave leave though, and placed his hand under his chin. By now, Toris was used to his face being touched by the large boy's hands. Being beat and slapped by them...

But he was not prepared for what Ivan did next.

Ivan kissed him.

Heat rushed to Toris' face, and he stood stock still out of surprise. Ivan's lips were soft against his own, and warm. The boy really didn't know what to do. He half wanted to pull away and run off, after all this was the same person who had been beating him only moments ago, but then again, Ivan's lips didn't feel so bad. Besides, he was only a child, what harm could a kiss do? The only fear that stayed in Toris' mind as he laid his hand on Ivan's shoulder was that Miss Braginskaya would walk in again.

Blushing, Ivan pulled away. His whole face was red, and he couldn't seem to meet Toris' eyes, as if what he had just done was a monstrous act. Instead, he stared down at the ground, biting his lip. "I'm s-sorry..." He whispered, glancing away, towards the opposite wall. "Ivan j-just wanted..." The child trailed off, unsure.

Toris wasn't sure how he should feel about the unexpected kiss; the only thing he was _sure_ about at the moment was the horrid pangs that were shooting through his back. Gritting his teeth, he leaned forwards and placed his head on Ivan's chest, finding it difficult to stand. "Make up your mind, Ivan." He growled, only not as angrily as he would have liked. "Y-you kiss me at one moment, beat me the next..."

"I-I don't try to!" Ivan stammered uneasily, slipping his large hands around Toris' battered, bleeding waist. "It's the demon, Toris, it makes me!" The child cried, pulling Toris neater to him in one painful gesture. "I-it...Ivan doesn't u-understand how to be n-nice." He tried to explain. "E-ever since I-Ivan was a baby, he w-was evil. M-mommy said he ruined e-everything when he was a b-baby. He ate the d-doctor's hand; s-so mommy had t-to hide him from the world."

"Y-you _ate_ his h-hand." Toris stumbled upon his words, eyes as wide as saucers. Wasn't that just like the dream he had had not too long ago? It felt like something sinister was laughing at him, inside his brain.

Nodding his head yes, Ivan flustered a deeper shade of red, ashamed. "Y-yes!" He gasped, looking like he would cry again. "I-I-I-I-." He kept repeating the word 'I', and it seemed like it was impossible to finish his sentence.

Sucking in a breath, Toris forced himself to remain calm. His poor back was stinging and throbbing awfully now, but he did his best to ignore it. "Ivan," He murmured. "I kissed you."

"D-Da..." Ivan bowed his head.

Unsmiling, Toris went on. "That felt nice, didn't it?" He inquired softly, putting his hand warmly on the side of Ivan's face. The boy nodded his head vigorously, although he was blushing a furious shade of red, and Toris pulled his hand away from the child's face. "Good. So, don't cry." He told Ivan, leaning forwards and laying his head delicately upon his shoulder.

"T-T-Toris..." Ivan's hands crept behind his slave, and suddenly starting feeling down the length of his back. Hurt boiled in Ivan's lavender eyes when he felt the bumps and slashes he had left, and he gulped again and again to keep from crying. It got even harder when he pulled his hands away, and found them covered with blood. "T-Toris would be happier...if Ivan fell into the clock tower gears." Shivering then, the child detached himself from Toris and walked past him. "G-g-go to b-bed, Maneken." He muttered, then flopped face down upon his bed and buried his face in the pillow. It was rather disheartening to see.

The slave _was_ turning to leave, but every time he moved, his whole frame was overcome with agony. Shaking, he remained where he stood. There was no way he would be able to climb the stairs all the way up to his attic! "I-I can't..." He replied, head feeling dizzy, and muscles on fire.

Obvious guilt made Ivan shake. Toris knew the boy felt bad, and finally understood his god-awful mood swings. But the beatings... those were the worst. Toris couldn't figure out what Ivan was beating him with, since he usually just stared at a wall while Ivan whipped him.

Maybe it was a whip?

Nonetheless, the slave couldn't move for the life of him. Well, if his life really did depend on it, he probably could move, but that's off topic.

"Can't move?" Ivan unburied his face from the plush pillows, probably made from goose feathers, or maybe duck feathers. Whichever was softer? Jealousy panged Toris' chest, seeing that he just had a mattress with no sheets, blanket, or pillow. But right now, he just wanted to lie down.

Toris nodded slowly at the child's words, shaking all over, the annoying nervous reaction made him want tea. But not just any type of tea, British tea. With cow's milk, and the divine tea leaves that marked Chamolle.

"Then my Maneken can sleep with me!" He cheered. Toris couldn't help but think how /great/ that went last time. The slave shook his head, which seemed to upset his master.

"Maneken, that wasn't a request." He stated.

Toris' shaking seemed to double as the demonic boy climbed from his bed, and bent down in front of Toris, grabbing his still-exposed waist, and threw him over his shoulder. The brunette let out a startled cry before he was dropped roughly on his stomach.

"M-master, I'll get blo-" Toris began.

"Then wash my sheets in the morning." Ivan stated simply.

Ivan pulled the plush covers over the beaten boy. The blankets suddenly seemed to get hot as they stuck to his back, blood seeping into it.

And it was as if his hardships disappeared, and sleep overcame him.

It was the first time since he was enslaved that he didn't cry himself to sleep.

Sleep brought dreams, but Toris didn't have what could be classified as a nightmare. Still, it was a bit disturbing in itself.

The slave dreamed he was lying in the garden with the broken angel statue, his head resting on a soft cushion of clover and his ruby eyes glazed up towards the faceless form above him. There was a hole in his chest where his heart should have been, and salty tears crept down his face and into that black abyss. They were not tears of sorrow, however, and somehow Toris was aware of this; they were tears of joy, but also tears of guilt. When the tears had filled up half of the heart's gap, Toris' eyes stopped leaking.

The stone angel began to move then; its movements flowing languid in the world, as I'd suddenly it were made of fresh water. The sight of it coming to life entranced Toris, and he wanted to reach up and touch it...but he couldn't move. He was dead, of course he couldn't move.

As the angel got closer, the desire to come into contact grew within Toris' stomach, sparkling like apple cider, and by the time the statue knelt upon the ground beside him, he was _aflame_ with want. "You want to touch me?" The faceless statue asked, its crumbled, broken wings twitching like something alien. It almost had no voice when it spoke, as if Toris were only reading the words it conveyed to him, not hearing them. "Promise me you'll love me forever." The angel demanded softly, and Toris wanted to nod so bad.

After a while of cocking its gray head down at him, the angel plunged its hand into Toris' open chest, filling it up with cold, hard stone. It didn't hurt, and Toris couldn't really feel much, except he distinguished the tears mingling with the angel's fingers.

As the angel pulled its hand away, Toris was pulled upwards with it, and he found the cavity in his chest was gone: the only thing remaining was a scar, shaped like a pair of scissors. "What a peculiar scar." Toris said monotonously, staring up at the angel with a blank countenance.

Suddenly the angel's form wavered, and slowly color crept into its frame. The stone melted from its body, and the wings regret until they spanned out on either side, large and white. "Of course." It chirped in a sing-song voice, lavender eyes glittering beautifully in the sunlight. "It wouldn't make sense you'd have any scar. You _do_ belong to me." A laugh escaped from the angel's mouth then, and Toris couldn't help but laugh along with it, although he didn't knew what was funny.

They laughed together, and it seemed like time excelled, and the sun plummeted into the earth. When they were done expressing their delight, Toris smiled and reached out his hands, delicately laying his finger on either side of the angels face. It felt nice. There weren't any deformities...

"Fix me." The angel said.

When Toris woke up, his brain was fizzling with confusion and grogginess. He wasn't really sure why he had such a strange dream. His back was kind of hurting still, but it didn't feel too bad - perhaps being a demon made the healing process shorter - and Toris moved to get up.

He soon realized that was impossible.

Ivan's hand was planted between his shoulder blades, and his violet-colored eyes were scathing Toris' bare back as if he were trying to memorize every future scar. His lips were pressed together in a hard, thin line, and his eyebrows furrowed. The child hummed aloud, softly, as he used his other hand to trail fingers down Toris' neck.

"U-um..." Toris suppressed a shudder, and glanced sideways at his master, noticing that the boy's huge pair of scissors was stuck in the ground beside him. "Master?" He asked, although he wondered after _why _he should still have to call the child that - _he_ was a demon now, too,

Flustering with surprise, Ivan pulled his hands away and folded them in front of him. After a moment, he smirked widely and shook Toris' shoulder lightly. "Get up, Maneken!" He peeped merrily. "We're going to do something _fun_ today!"

**I thank Vanya so much for this chapter. I thought my dog was dying and she was awesome and let me write shorter amounts because…. I love that little bastard of a dog!**

**Fuck. I hate the whole thing we did. When it's in Italics, we wrote /insert word/. So if I'm missing some, blame Neeky-Chan. I don't know why, but just blame her.**

**Even though she had nothing to do with this story, blame her.**

**This chapter got weird. **

**All translations done by the epic SarentoKensei. Her name means Silent Perfection after all. Did ANYONE know that?**

**Because she's definitely not silent…**

**Sarento: Why are you making Toris act all insane?**

**Vanya: Because I have a headache.**

**Plausible reason.**

**Did I just include a piece from our Emails?**

**Yes.**

**Yes I did.**

**Authors note is done. Please review. It's like you're a sexy armadillo. So sexy. *hugs***


	5. Chapter 5

"We're going to have...fun?" For some reason, that though sent chills down Toris' spine.

"Da! Mommy's bringing some orphan girls, she picked girls because she thinks we're both gay or something. Maneken, what does 'be gay' mean?" Ivan's words made the slave shiver.

"Um, why don't we save this for when your older?" The brunette quickly said. Ivan let out an annoyed sigh, his eyes glittering purple just like that angels.

"Why does everyone say that? Mommy calls me these mean names and I never know what they mean, and I ask daddy and he says that he'll tell me when I'm older." Ivan crossed his arms and pouted. But then he shrugged, while Toris was left to think on how he forgot to feed Mr. Jones.

"Fuuuucccck." He growled. Ivan glared at Toris before smacking him across his face.

"No mean words, Maneken!" He barked, Toris just rubbed his face and looked away.

"I'm sorry master..." he muttered, looking at his feet. Ivan must have been happy with that apology because he jumped up and grabbed his slaves shoulders, turning him around.

"Ah, you're healing very well! You should just have scars in no time." Ivan giggled, stroking his slaves back, sending chills down Toris' back. At the sight this unnerved Toris, he sighed and shoved him away.

Slowly, Toris turned himself to the side and slid out of bed. He could feel Ivan's lavender eyes raking him as he did so, and it sent more chills up his spine. "Ivan..." He mouthed, feeling slightly groggy. His back didn't hurt too much anymore. "Does...does Natalia eat them alive, or dead?"

A chuckle came out of the large child's lips and he leaned forwards, grinning. "It doesn't matter." He chirped, giggling. "And it's none of Maneken's business."

"Yes, master..." Toris sighed. The tattered maids costume he was wearing was really annoying him. Blood clung to its ripped lace threads and made it stick to his back. Trying to sound timid, he asked, "When will...Miss Braginskaya...bring them?" His hands fumbled with the glass shard in his pocket.

Ivan's eyes were riveted on the blood stains on his blankets. His mouth pursed, and he glanced from them to Toris momentarily. "Maneken's so _filthy._" He snorted, ignoring the question. Toris sighed.

Before the slave could do much to move, Ivan's hands were upon him, grasping his small shoulders and hoisting him into the air. A shrill cry of protest escaped Toris' mouth as he eyed the demon-child in fear, but he did not kick out, knowing better. "W-what d-did I do w-wrong?" He squeaked, forgetting, for a moment, that he was a demon too. Adrenaline pounded inside his dead heart...he hated the feeling.

Still not responding, Ivan threw Toris over his shoulder and began walking, leaving his scissors stuck in the floor beside his bed. He went passed the chifforobe, Toris noticing the flowers in the vase had withered, and through the door beside it.

As Toris had assumed the first night he'd been in Ivan's room, it was a bathroom. The tile was perfectly white, almost a bleached color, and oddly enough not a single spiders web decked the place. Shuddering, Toris allowed himself to be lowered to the floor. "W-what...are you...?" He stammered, confused.

"Maneken," Ivan sighed. "You get me into so much trouble..." Shaking his head disapprovingly, Ivan left the room. When he returned, there was a bundle of clothing beneath his arm. He placed them on the toilet, which had its lid down.

Toris could tell that the clothes were old and worn, but he didn't say anything, feeling too awkward to speak.

"They used to be mine, when I was smaller." Ivan said quickly. He turned a shade of pink when Toris only looked up at him, and twisted his fingers into his pale scarf. "There's towels under the sink!" He spat, somehow angry, and he turned and darted from the room, slamming the bathroom door behind him and leaving Toris staring after him in perplexity.

Not knowing what else to do, Toris cranked the handle and turned on the water.

Clean, warm water spilled out of the shower head. Once it reached the appropriate tempature, he took off his clothes and tossed them in the trashcan. Toris bent down by the sink and grabbed a towel, he stood up in front of the sink, and looked at his figure in the mirror.

He saw a sickening scar on his chest, red and...squishy. He placed his hand on it timid-like, as if he was afraid it would hurt. When no pain came, he pressed harder, until his hand actually sunk into his chest, the chest bone obviously not healing correctly. The sick feeling of the dead guts inside him grossed him out, where he ran to the toilet, tossing the clothes to the ground and vomiting inside. He continued to finger his insides when he came across something...soft. Something out of place. He pet it for a few moments before it bit him and Toris yanked his hand out.

Completely weirded out, he quickly climbed into the shower.

The blood came off his skin, pooling at his feet. Dirt mixed in and tears began to fall. Depression began to sink in as the thought of being here forever trailed across his mind.

He started washing his hair.

He just wanted his dad to hug and love him again. Or a new family to do the same...

This wasn't a life...

He wasn't even alive anymore.

"Maneken?" He heard his masters voice call, coming inside. Suddenly the curtin thrust open and Ivan walked in.

Stark naked.

A blush came across both their faces, and Ivan fiddled with his thumbs.

"M-master? I-is there something you want?" Toris forced himself to look Ivan in the eyes, but eventually couldn't and glanced down at Ivan's dick.

Oh god.

The nine year olds dick was larger than his own, and depression began to sink in further.

"Um...I-I ...I-I..." he trailed off, looking right at Toris' dick, making the slave wonder if Ivan was getting any ideas.

"I want you to bathe me."

"E-eh? W-why? Can't you do it yourself?" Toris moaned. This was horribly degrading as Ivan handed Toris a shampoo bottle. The slave poured the shampoo onto the palm of his hand and began scrubbing the boys hair. Digging into it, making sure it was clean.

Sniffing softly, he moved his master under the water and washed the shampoo out. Ivan handed him conditioner and Toris frowned. Could this child really do nothing himself?

Nonetheless, Toris put a small amount of conditioner on his hands and pulled the hair softly, conditioning the part not touching the scalp. That is what he did, to achieve softness.

Ivan smiled once more, before handing Toris a loofah, and putting this Sunflower Retreat bodywash on it. The fact he was using woman's body wash made Toris giggle, quickly swallowing it when Ivan glared at him. He began scrubbing his master's body, absolutely miserable and slightly aroused the whole time.

Seeming pleased, Ivan stepped out of the shower, dragging his slave with him. He wrapped the towel around Toris, then pulling himself inside.

"I love you, Toris~"

Red spread across Toris' cheeks like wildfire. He could feel Ivan's sex touching him, and it was too much to bear.

The worst part was Ivan was so young...

"P-please don't say that!" Toris chirped, trying to pull away. In his despair, he tugged the towel off of Ivan, leaving it draped solely around himself. He made sure it was covering his mid-section.

Hurt flashed in Ivan's face, and was soon replaced by a slight anger. "Why not?!" He snapped, stepping forwards and grasping the end of the towel in both hands. "Does Maneken not love me?!"

Fear sparked in Toris' stomach and he inched away, shaking his head. "N-no! It's not that...I need to change! G-go out, please!" His voiced sounded meek, as he tried to stop it from cracking. The shame boiling beneath his skin was turning his whole body blushing red. _It's all his fault, it's all his fault!_ Toris constantly repeated to himself. He was definitely NOT gay. Ivan was just being weird! He was forcing Toris' body to do things!

"F-fine then! I DON'T love you, Maneken!" Ivan screamed, tears budding in his eyes. In no time his hand struck forwards, sending his slave crashing to the bathroom floor. Much to Toris' dismay, the towel flew off as he fell, and Ivan's eyes widened with perplexity as he stared down at him. "Maneken..." He murmured innocently. "Why is it sticking up like that?"

A squeal of dismay came from Toris as his hand shot down to his crotch. "Ne! Don't look!" He cried, so embarrassed he thought he would wither up and die. "You're too young, Ivan, don't look!" He went on, tears creeping down his face as he shook all over. It was anyone's fault but his - Ivan's, the demon in his chest, anyone's! - but this erection was _not_ his fault.

For a bit, Ivan just stared at him. "Maneken. I don't understand." He murmured softly, kneeling upon the cool, tile ground and pressing his hand against Toris' forehead. The latter shut his eyes, not wanting to see the child's nude body. "Man-e-ken!" Ivan whined, heaving a large sigh before getting to his feet, seeing Toris didn't plan on moving anytime soon.

"Fine!" He snapped, yanking a towel out from under the sink and wrapping it around himself. "Get dressed!"

As soon as Ivan was halfway out the door, Toris was scrambling on his hands and knees for his towel, pulling it to himself desperately. Just as he had it wrapped loosely around his body, his master's head popped back in.

He was blushing, though he didn't seem to understand why. "You will explain whatever I ask you, when you're done!" He said sharply, stepping from the room and closing the door.

Misery overcame Toris once more as he released an annoyed sigh. He didn't want to explain his erection to Ivan. Even more, he didn't want an erection from touching Ivan's dick.

But if Ms. Braginskaya found out instead...

It would be best to tell Ivan.

Grabbing his new, old clothes, he slipped the itchy woolen clothes on. They were very nice, like what he would wear on Sundays to church at the orphanage. But wearing Ivan's old clothes, ...at least he wasn't wearing a dress.

He noticed Ivan gave him some boxers. Shame was apparent on his face as he slipped on his masters boxers, and the black woolen pants. He stepped outside the bathroom and looked at his master, who was staring at his scissors with great interest.

"Master..." Toris said softly.

"Maneken! Tell me know why your wee-wee was sticking up like that!" He ordered almost immediately. Toris looked down, not wanting to answer. Ivan raised his hand to slap him, when Toris put his hands up to protect himself.

"Ne! I'll tell you!" He cried. Sniffing, he lowered his hands.

"It sticks up when a man is very very happy, and something sexual is near, like a beautiful woman, or something."

"But I'm not a woman. Why did it stick up?" He asked with innocence.

"B-because... I-I don't know...master." he said softly.

"I think you do. Do you like me like daddy does mommy?" Ivan asked.

A blush came across Toris face. He had to get those thoughts out of Ivan's head.

"Ne! I can't even stand the sight of you!" As soon as those words escaped Toris' mouth, he knew he chose the wrong words.

"The sight of me?..." Ivan slowly brought his hand to the deformed side of his face, before quivering with anger. "The left side of Ivan is so ugly, da?!" He cried, shoving Toris to the ground, who let out a shocked gasp. Ivan grabbed his scissors, and climbed on top of his slave. Pausing, he chose to grab the large shard of glass from Toris' pocket.

Placing it at his slaves forehead, digging it deeply into his skull, dragging downwards to his eye.

"I'll make the left side of your face just as ugly."

Toris barely heard him, all he was doing was screaming. Screaming in pure agony. He knew this would heal into a scar.

But Ivan didn't stop at his eye, he dug the glass deeply into his eye, gouging it out. Blood rushed down his face, and his right eye was leaving a trail of hysterical tears.

He couldn't even beg for mercy, the pain to much to let him speak.

Ivan stopped at Toris cheekbones, and from what Toris could make out from all the blood and tears, Ivan had a look of horror, and dropped the glass shard with a shatter.

"Toris..." Ivan muttered, before grabbing gauze and wrapping it around Toris bloody eye socket.

"Now Maneken is ugly. Just like big meanie Ivan."

A silence befell the room then, and the only sound was Toris' anguished sobs as his body spasmed in ultimate pain. Ivan knelt on top of him, staring down with furrowed eyebrows and biting his lip. The gauze that he hadn't used was still clutched tightly in his hand, and he dropped it absentmindedly. "No one will ever love me, will they?" He asked his screaming slave.

Choking down sobs, Toris tried to respond. His back arched from the stabbing, burning sensation in his left eye, and he felt blood building under the gauze...and coagulating, remaining sticky and stinking beneath it. Tears gushed from the right side of his face and trickled down uncontrollably.

"Answer me, Maneken!" Ivan demanded furiously. "WHY won't anyone love me?" When Toris remained irresponsive, Ivan's mouth distorted into a snarl, and he started hitting him.

"STOP IT, IT HURTS!" Toris howled, thrashing about beneath his master. If his heart had been alive, he knew it would be pounding insanely right now. _ Heart... _Ivan continued beating upon him and screaming, but Toris stopped feeling the pain. The world became distant and fuzzy, and a dull pain moved in his chest.

The world turned to obsidian.

_Toris...Toris..._ A soft, rattling voice was hissing in his ear. Unable to see, Toris wanted to reach out and touch it...but he found his limbs were immobile as well. It was almost as if he had no body at all. _Toris, stupid Toris. You're such a weakling, Toris. _The voice continued, and a shrill, high pitched laugher pounded in Toris darkened skull. _Don't worry, Toris, don't worry. I'm here for you, Toris. _

"W-who are you?" Toris stammered, his voice almost a whisper. His throat felt like he had strep, and it was hard to speak. Suddenly he felt very sleepy...

_Don't talk, sweetie._ The voice rumbled pleasantly, lulling Toris into a state of submission. He didn't care what was happening around him, or why, he just wanted to stay here... _I'm just the thing that shares a body with you, Toris, darling._ The voice continued in the same delectable tone. _I'm your little servant, your demon._

Obeying the demon's wishes for him to remain silent, Toris spoke not a word, and only nodded in dumb acknowledgment. It felt nice to be enveloped by this demon in his chest. He forgot completely about how much it had disgusted him earlier.

_That's right, Toris, just give in to me..._

Toris giggled weakly and allowed the darkness to overtake him.

It seemed like only a few seconds had passed before Toris opened his eyes again. For a moment, he felt disappointed, but then realized, with disgust, that he had allowed a _demon _to control him. It was revolting. He felt so lowly and weakly. Surely now he was doomed to hell.

The scent of blood caught in Toris' nostrils soon enough, along with a wave of dizziness in his head. The pain in his eye socket had been reduced to a dull throb, that was more annoying than painful. Well, the blood had probably dried up beneath the gauze, and that's why it smelled.

But the scent was fresh.

With a jolt, Toris realized that he was standing up, and his hands felt...wet. A shudder ran though his body and up his spine, and sweat welled up on his neck. "Shit..." Toris looked down.

Ivan was lying on the ground.

He wasn't moving.

_Ivan wasn't moving..._

Ms. Braginskaya would be furious.

Toris quickly bent down and checked the man child's pulse, quite shocked there was a pulse.

"Master, please wake up! Please! I-I'm sorry!" Toris cried, tears falling from the right side of his eye. The throbbing and...emptiness in his left eye was nearly unbearable. But his master...

Ivan's blood was all over Toris' hands.

The important thing is that the boy was still alive, but the punishment for knocking out his master like this...

He just had his eye gouged out for not thinking of his choice of words.

His punishment now... would surely be the worst yet.

Tears of fear and worry began falling from Toris' only eye. He tried to sit the boy up, but he wasn't strong enough to lift someone bigger than himself.

Maybe if he started cleaning, or doing something, the punishment would be less harsh.

No, Ivan would just take that as abandonment.

He takes everything so seriously.

'I can't stand the sight of you!'

Toris lost his left eye.

Scarred his face.

Ivan's left side of his face was scarred.

Burned, almost.

It was sickening.

Toris raised his hand to his empty eye socket, softly touching the gauze. Pulling his hand away, it was already sticky with dried blood.

Tears began to flow down harder, he couldn't hold them in any longer.

It felt like they were chocking him to death.

_Lord, tell me what I have done to deserve this everlasting punishment._

He awaited a response, a feeling of reassurance.

Proof god was there.

None came.

God had abandoned him.

After a moment of hanging his head in dejected silence, Toris forced himself to stagger to his feet. Even if god had left him for the devil himself...Toris was still going to try and preserve himself, no matter what. Perhaps it was its human instinct, but, then again, maybe it was only selfishness. A tremor of shame wracked the boy's body as he removed a pillow from Ivan's bed. _It's no wonder god abandoned you..._

Shaking and near hysterics, Toris gently lifted Ivan's head and slipped the soft, plush pillow beneath it. His master looked almost peaceful, besides the crimson spraying his face: his eyelids were shut daintily and his mouth was parted into a delicate 'o'. It was a bit unsettling to look at...

It occurred to Toris, after a moment, that he had _beaten _his master. It made his lip tremble and his hands shake to think of it, but it was true. Horrific, but true. Maybe...was Toris' demon stronger than Ivan's? The question weighed heavily on the slave's worried mind.

_I don't want to be punished..._

Not knowing what exactly he should do, Toris crept into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, running part of it under warm water. Careful not to drip liquid on the floor, he made his way back to Ivan and knelt beside the nine year old.

"Master..."

Toris pushed back Ivan's silky blonde hair with careful hands, trying not to look upon the deformed half of his face. Not that he should care. His face was just as bad, now. Sighing, he glanced across Ivan's skin, searching for wounds. Every time he saw a cut, a scrape, or a bloodied place, he was quick to scrub it off. In fact, the whole towel was a sick red color soon enough, and the air around him smelled like copper.

"I'm so sorry..."

He was still in shock as he staggered back into the bathroom and shoved the filthy towel into the sink, flushing it full of water and allowing it to soak for the time being. Next he returned to his master, and stared piteously down upon him, not knowing what else to do.

The wounds had been minor. There were no major gashes or extreme tears upon Ivan's body...but that was what disturbed Toris most of all. All of Ivan's blood had come from minor wounds, meaning Toris must have struck him a lot.

And Toris only had his bare hands to fight.

Oh god. Could he really, truly, have beaten his master into unconsciousness? It hurt to come to terms with the idea. _You beat a CHILD._ A voice in his head seemed to whisper. _No wonder god has abandoned you. _The sticky hotness under Toris' gauze seemed to fester and move, and a tear trickles from his right eye.

Surely, a happy ending was impossible. Toris imagined himself, locked for days in a dark dungeon, with Miss Braginskaya and Ivan torturing him constantly every day, for a year. Surely, they would have something like that in store for him! "I don't want to be tortured!"

Heaving a breath, the slave fought screaming at the top of his lungs, and instead went to the bed. "A-are you c-cold, m-master?" He asked the silent air, jerking the blanket off of the bed. He pulled it across Ivan's meek-looking frame, single green eye glittering like a jewel as tears cascaded out of it. "Isn't that better?" He asked. He laughed quietly. "Do you feel better now?"

No response.

Something inside Toris urged him to run away, but he rejected the feeling. "I-I'm sorry." He hiccupped instead, not understanding in the least bit how he was feeling. His girlish hand still came forwards and cupped the left side of Ivan's face, holding it gently. "I'm sorry..." He repeated, and he actually meant it.

A dark silence seemed to settle upon the room, and Toris' chest was filled with despair as he stated down upon his master. Ivan seemed as if he were in a deep sleep that he would never awake from. Sighing, Toris clutched at his own arms and tried to keep his teeth from chattering.

After a while of listening to the giant child's heavy breathing, Ivan began to stir. His mouth twitched and his eyelids shifted.

_Danger._ Toris' mind was yelling. His dead heart rose into his throat. _Run away, run away._ Tears dropped down his porcelain cheeks and landed in spatters upon Ivan's silky blonde hair.

"M...M..." Long, black eyelashes fluttered and lavender orbs shone beneath them. "W-why are you hurting me...?" The boy asked childishly, lips pulling into a disdainful scowl. Then his eyes opened all the way. "Maneken."He looked at Toris.

Hysterical words spilled from Toris' mouth and he fell forwards, hands touching the floor and bowing his head lowly. "I-I'm so sorry, m-master! Please don't hurt me! It wasn't me, it was the demon! I beg you! Mercy! Please! Mercy!" He continued to ramble on, shoulders quivering in shock and pain. The place where his eye used to be throbbed.

A confused, childish smile inched its way across Ivan's face. His mouth was closed, do none of his teeth showed, and somehow this made him less menacing. "You hate me." He chuckled lightly, reaching up to his own face to tap an angry red welt Toris' had left upon me. "Maneken doesn't love me..."

"I-I kissed you!" Toris gasped, unable to think of anything to say. But he had to save himself. He had to. "I let you kiss me!"

The blanket fell into a pile onto the floor as Ivan stood. His frame shook when he rose, towering above Toris, who was still down on his hands and knees. "Lies. You lied to me." He hissed, childish voice cracking. "Mommy was right about you."

Toris shook his head vehemently as Ivan moved towards the door, not even pausing to grab his scissors. "No! That's not it! I'm sorry!" He screamed. "It wasn't me."

Ivan opened the door. His hand was gripping the frame so hard it looked like it would shatter. Tears glistened in the corners of his huge purple eyes. "Toris," He spat threateningly.

"I'm telling mommy!"

"Ne!" Toris cried, launching to his feet and clinging tightly to his master's legs, Trembling harder than humanly possible.

"Maneken?" He looked down, trying then to shove his slave off.

"Please don't tell Mistress! Ne! Nenene! I love you Master, please believe me! I'm your slave, I love you! I-I love you... please... I love you... your mother won't spare me... m-master..." he shook hard.

"Maneken. You beat me. It's not even your place to touch me like you are now." Ivan frowned, before softly laying a hand on Toris head.

"B-but you can touch me now. It's okay..." Ivan softly petted his hysterical slave.

"I took your eye... so you would be just as ugly as me. I think that makes up for half of your punishment." Ivan pulled Toris to his feet.

"The other half... you have to kill all the orphans. By yourself."

"What?!" Toris looked up in shock.

"Or I could tell mommy, if that's what you would prefer-"

"Of course not! Why would I-I want that/!" Toris knew what Ms. Braginskaya would undoubtedly be worse. "I-I'll do it. Anything for you, master." He shook hard.

Ivan seemed to seem somewhat pleased, and he bent down and touched the gauze on the shaking boys face.

"Let Ivan give you new gauze. You'll have to cover it up from now on. It's so disgusting." Ivan said, in a teasing manner. Toris fought to not glare at him, choosing to sniffle instead.

Ivan pulled his slave inside, sitting him on the bed. Toris looked down as Ivan tore the bloodied gauze from his face, dropping it on the floor. Ivan walked into his bathroom and brought back a wet towel. He began cleaning the clotted blood out of Toris empty eye socket. Once he was done, he got blood off of Toris' shirt, and then wrapped clean gauze around his face. A few tears fell from his right eye, all Ivan did was smile and wipe them away.

"They're here. Come look!" Ivan tugged Toris' sleeve and pulled him to the window.

Three girls and a boy were walking up with the...bouncy Braginskaya. One girl was shorter than the rest, and rather tan.

Her hair was short, a boys cut, and was on the tan side. Appearing to be 13, she also seemed to be occupied with staring at a flower that she probably picked on her way there. Toris recalled seeing flowers when he originally came. She was the shortest one there. Strangly short, as if she was squashed like Raivis was from his abusive parents. She was probably taller than him, but she was short and adorable nonetheless.

Another was a girl with brown hair, and went down to her shoulder blades. She was slightly taller than the shorter girl. And looked about 16. Pale, possibly Prussian, or just British. The way she dressed, she was probably a part of a cult….Er, Mormonism. Old enough to drive, but awfully short, yet taller than the short haired girl.

He really didn't want to kill tiny people.

The last of the girls was rather tall, which made her stand out compared to the other girls, with long dishwater blonde hair trailing to her waist. From what Toris could see, she was a sickly color of pale, and seemed to be dressed for cold weather, gloves, coat and all.

The boy beside the pale girl was very short and slightly pudgy, with striking yellow hair sweeping across his face, almost girlishly long. Although he didn't look intimidating, he seemed to be ceaselessly talking, waving his chubby pink hands in the air as he did so.

A feeling of dread washed over Toris and he turned away from the children, facing Ivan with a single, burning eye. "These are the children I must kill?" He asked. It was more of a statement.

Ivan nodded. "Da," The large child smiled softly and ran his long fingers through Toris' brown hair, causing the latter to shudder. "Kill them, and Ivan will bring them to Natalia." He then frowned. "I don't want Maneken to see Natalia."

Toris didn't think that he wanted to see her either. "Yes, master..." He nodded blankly, staring down at the scrapes in the floor. He tried to count them, and wondered just how many were the result of Ivan's scissors.

Suddenly Ivan put his arms around him, practically crushing him. Toris felt like he couldn't breathe, but he didn't say anything. He wanted to cry again, but the tears caught in his throat. "Maneken's going to need another weapon." Ivan laughed softly. "He broke the shard of glass I gave him when he went insane."

A shudder passed through Toris' body. He didn't know whether to be happy or sad - it would be hard to kill someone with just a shard of glass, but would Ivan offer him something better. "O-okay." He whispered, not sure how to respond. His eyes trailed the window pane dejectedly.

"Hey, Maneken, look at me." Ivan said suddenly, his thumb and index finger grabbing Toris' chin. The boy slowly tilted his head up, biting his lip quietly, fearing a slap to the face. He blinked often, and trembled. Ivan frowned at the sight of him. "Am I really...so hideous?" He asked, a strange, shrill sound creeping into his voice.

Not wanting to loose his other eye, Toris vigorously shook his head. "No! You're not ugly at all." He snapped sharply, flinching at his own loud tone. Ivan's fingers tightened upon his chin.

Purple eyes narrowed. "Stop lying to me, Maneken." The man-child growled. "You /hate/ Ivan's face, don't you?" He shoved Toris away from the warmth of his arms, pushing him against the wall. "Ivan's not good enough for anyone. Not mommy, and not Maneken. Da?" An insane laugh rumbled off of his chest and he pressed his hand against Toris chest harshly, irritating the slave's demonic scar.

Desperate thoughts ran through Toris' brain. _Run away with me Ivan. Run away, and we'll find a way to fix you, and me, we'll fix us... _Instead he reached out a frail hand and laid it daintily on the left side of Ivan's face. "Nyet." He said, the Russian words feeling strange and foreign on his tongue. "If you could only get past your violence, you would be good enough for /anyone/. And you wouldn't feel ugly anymore."

Ivan blinked confusedly at him, pursing his lips childishly. A blush crept across his face and he pulled his fist from Toris' chest, hesitant and quivering.

It was beginning to amuse Toris whenever his master acted like this. He wondered if that meant he was going insane. "Come, master." Toris murmured softly, not taking his warm fingers from Ivan's scarred face. "Aren't you going to give me a new weapon?"

"Da~ Of course." Ivan smiled happily. He took his hands together, making a clapping noise. He then gripped his slaves arm and pulled him into the kitchen. Toris sighed softly, he really didn't expect Ivan to give him a good weapon.

Nonetheless, the man-child pulled out a large butchers knife, which Toris winced at.

He really didn't want to kill those children...

**I'm such a fucking bitch.**

**I make fun of her height all the time.**

**I had to fucking edit this because two friends found this offensive, despite the fact that the two I made fun of found it funny.**

**IT'S FUCKING INTENDED TO OFFENDED HIMIWARI AND NEEKY!**

**And I pat Neeky's head. *pats head***

**I thought Himiwari was offended, so I took it off. She said it was fine and I'm putting it up again. It's LESS OFFENSIVE THIS TIME.**

**God I hate critics. Especially when they're my friends and hurt my feelings.**

**I'm typing this on the school's computer :D**

**Seriously, I shouldn't be doing this. Neeky doesn't intimidate me, but Himiwari, well, she knows how to unnerve me. Fucking Russia's are scary to us Lithuania's. *hides behind Vanya***

**Vanya: Freaking Toris. You're so stupid. You'd think you'd learn by now not to say dumbass things to Ivan…. *sniffle* I luv you! *huggles him***

**Toris: D: get away from me you psychopathic freak!**

**Vanya: Nu. Naow yew is mai slave.**

**(Totally am testing my impersonation of Vanya.)**

**Sarento: Because I'm a whore, I'm not writing anymore.**

**Vanya: *slap* Ne! You are not a whore.**

**Sarento: *rapes***

**Vanya: D':**

**Sarento: Yew ees a hoe.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do own Kaia and Neeky. :D**

It felt rather strange, knowing that he was going to kill those kids.

A weird feeling was bubbling inside Toris' stomach as Ivan walked him downstairs, into the hallway besides the main hall where Toris had first come to: where he had been brought to die. Memories flooded him of the time. He had thought he would get a second chance - a new life, and a new family - but he had been so wrong.

"I must go get Mr. Jones so that you children can meet him!" The sound of Miss Braginskaya's voice echoed throughout the room. Toris almost groaned - he /still/ hadn't fed Mr. Jones yet. "You kids wait right here."

The knife clutched in Toris' hand seemed to get slick with sweat, and he felt Ivan place his hand upon his shoulder, almost reassuringly. Miss Braginskaya came out of the main hall, her breasts bouncing as she moved, and a wide smile plastered on her flawlessly innocent face.

Upon the sight of a scissor-less Ivan, and Toris' knife, her brow furrowed and she pouted childishly. "What's going on?" She asked. Toris' spine straightened...

...but Ivan didn't say a word about the beating. "I thought Maneken ought to learn how we work around here." Ivan said softly, purple eyes glittering like candles in the shadowy hallway, "And so he is to kill every single child here, for sister."

A chuckle rumbled out of Miss Braginskaya's jiggling chest, and she smiled. "Good. The little whore needs to learn." She cackled, casting Toris a spiteful glare. "Come, Ivan, mommy will play with you until your slut is-" She paused, eyes narrowing suddenly.

His grip around the knife handle tightened even more, and Toris' breathing hitched. Ivan's hand clenched up upon his slave's shoulder a bit, but then relaxed softly. "What is it, mommy?" The child inquired with innocence.

"Why do you have bruises on your face?"

The question set a heavy weight in the air that seemed to push upon the two boys' chests.

Ivan looked down and shuffled his feet. "I fell, mommy." He whispered quietly. "I fell..."

Miss Braginskaya didn't seem to believe her son, but she didn't stall in the hallway all the same - one of the kids could come out at any minute to find her. "Ivan." She snapped instead. "Come with me. We'll discuss this somewhere else."

Reluctantly, Ivan withdrew his hand from his slaves shoulder, a sigh coming from his parted lips. "Yes, mommy..." He murmured, allowing the woman to rotate him around and lead him away. As they were turning a corner, he peeked back over his shoulder at Toris. "Good luck Maneken!" He chirped merrily, as if it were nothing but a game.

Strange emotions rose into Toris' chest, and he pushed them away, forcing his body to feel numb. "A-alright." He stammered, gulping. He could do this. He could kill these children... All he had to do, was pretend like they weren't human.

An idea crossed Toris mind. He really didn't want to make a mess. Mainly because he knew he would have to clean it up. Tucking the knife up his sleeve, he walked out into the foyer where the children were.

"Are you one of the servants?" The tall girl asked. "My names Ashley." She then flipped her hair, sitting in the chair Eduard sat in so long ago.

Toris couldn't help but chuckle.

"Very nice to make your acuantince, mistress Ashely." He said, then turned to the shortest girl there.

"My name is Toris," he said taking the girl with the boys hair cut's hand and kissing it, causing her to blush.

"I-I am Kaia." The -now blushing- girl said.

The other short one chuckled at Kaia's sudden embarrassment.

"And I'm Neeky." She said.

However, the boy looked at him strangly.

"What's wrong with your eye? Get in a fight and lose?" He snickered, Ashely laughing too.

However, the cultist and the short girl stared at them both, shocked at their rudeness.

"Justin. That wasn't nice." Neeky said.

Toris spoke up quickly "Ah, its quite alright... I did get in a fight, and I had it coming. I lost my eye..." he trailed off nervously.

"However Justin," he continued "curiousity killed the cat." Toris smiled.

Silence filled the room, in which Kaia then chuckled.

"Дa. But satisfaction brought it back, no?" She smiled. The scars on his back began to itch and burn as she spoke his masters language.

"Да вы понимаюь?" Toris spoke back.

"Да~" she smiled.

Toris smiled, of course he knew Russian, he was Lithuanian! They had to know it in his childhood.

"Let me show you to your new rooms." He motioned for them to follow.

He took Justin to his room first, telling him if he needed anything, to let him know. He took Ashley to the room over, in which she snuffed Toris and slammed the door.

Kaia and Neeky gave each other nervous glances. Toris could tell they were both rather uneasy.

"Would you two prefer to share a room?" He asked sweetly.

They both nodded simultaneously as Toris took them to the room at the end of the hall.

"Hey, Toris?" Neeky asked.

"Yes, Mistress?" He responded back smiling.

"Where is Mr. Jones?" Toris froze up.

"You will find out, soon enough."

Neeky gave Toris a strange look, but as he smiled at her reassuringly, she calmed and smiled back. "Well...alright." She chuckled softly, angular fingers clutching the door's frame tightly as she hesitantly brought it to a close. Toris watches her close it with a glittering eye.

She was kind of pretty, that girl. Toris half-regretted having to kill her.

The cool metal of the knife inside Toris' sleeve constantly rubbed at his skin, reminding him that it was there, and of the task he must do. He tried not to shudder, but took a deep breath instead: it would be easy, just a slip of the hand, and they could be dead.

/Blood is beautiful, Toris./ A tiny, almost inaudible voice whispered in the back of his head. /Once you make your first kill, you'll never want to stop./ Images of red raining down upon him as his knife cut through stringy flesh made Toris grimace and he backed away a bit, bumping into the wall and disturbing a painting. It fell off its hook and landed lopsided with a loud thud.

Before he could groan at his own stupidity, the door that Neeky and Kaia were shut behind opened again.

"Just go back inside!" He said, too snappishly for a servant, but the thought of having to cut his knife through that pretty girl's flesh made him furious at Ivan, and Miss Braginskaya. "Im fine..." He covered up.

The two girls were standing in their doorway, looking at Toris with curious eyes. There was an air of mistrust about the shortest one, it seemed, but Toris could find nothing wrong with the other. For a moment he forgot the painting and let his eye run all over her.

"Ah...do you need help?" Neeky asked timidly, looking a bit uncomfortable under Toris' scouring gaze.

Toris picked up the painting and shoved it back onto its place on the wall. It was of Mister Jones. He was smiling. "No." Toris stated softly. "Thanks, but you should stay in your rooms. This house is big, and you could get...lost."

Nervous chuckling came from the two girls, but they nodded their heads slowly. "I wouldn't let lost." Kaia said.

They shut their door again, all the same.

/Fuck./ Toris didn't know what to do. Fear and weird feelings pummeling him, the slave dashed out of the hallway and sprinted. He ran until he reached the kitchen, where he quickly compiled a stack of random fruits and vegetables on a tray, and then a glass of warm water. /I'll feed Jones first./ He thought desperately, knowing his mind was trying to distract him.

It was beginning to grow dark as Toris stepped outside and made his way towards the old shed. He had to pass by the pool where Raivis had died, and he had to bite his lips to suppress chills that were wracking his spine. A ghostly wind howled in the nearby forest, ruffling the trees, and Toris remembered the garden he had discovered momentarily. He wished he could have escaped there, so long ago...

"W-who's there?" Mr. Jones didn't sound very well when Toris entered the shed. His voice was raspy and dry, like an old man's.

"It's me, sir." The slave replied quickly, dropping to his knees beside Mr. Jones' cage to push the food and water in. "I'm sorry it's not a good meal, I'm busy-" He began. What cut him off wasn't a noise. It was Mr. Jones' eyes.

The man's sharp blue eyes were watching him spitefully within the darkness, as if they could see right through him. Mr. Jones chewed his bottom lip. "You're going to kill someone tonight." He said softly, running a shaking, frail hand through his hair.

"...y-yes sir." Toris whispered honestly.

Mr. Jones bowed his head, giving his strange compilation of food a disapproving glance. He lifted a peach to his lips, opened his mouth slightly, and then set it back down with a plantative sigh (he rejected your fruit). "I really do miss hamburgers." He said with a laugh, raising his glass of water to his dried, chapped lips, and taking a sip.

Toris didn't think Mr. Jones was anymore same than the rest of his family.

"Well, sir," He began hurriedly, rising to his feet and feeling the knife shift under his shirt sleeve. "I should be going..." He backed away from Mr. Jones, inching towards the door.

"Hey, man," Mr. Jones said suddenly. "Promise me one thing."

Hand on the door, Toris paused. "Yes, sir? Anything." He murmured politely. Surely the imprisoned American couldn't ask for much.

A sorrowful smile spread across Mr. Jones' face. "I know he's troubled, but...take care of Ivan for me." His lips trembled expectantly, as if waiting for rejection.

Toris' blood ran cold. He want sure what to say, and his fingers scraped against the paint on the wall. "Of course." He said finally, in a whisper.

All the suffering seemed to wash away from Mr. Jones' features. He lay back in his cell, almost relaxed, and sighed. "Thank you..." He voiced.

"...y-yeah." Toris nodded and stepped outside, closing the door to the shed lightly behind him. It was dark out now, and a strange, numb feeling was creeping over him.

He had some kids to kill.

Making his way back into the mansion, he decided he would kill one now. He really didn't want to do this.

A crash came from the kitchen and Toris had a feeling of what was up.

One of the children just was a little to restless.

The Lithuanian let the knife fall from his sleeve, gripping the handle tightly.

In the kitchen was a startled Neeky. She seemed to be occupied with looking for something to eat.

"Neeky?" Toris asked, forcing a smile.

She whipped around, startled.

"T-Toris! I'm sorry, I was so anxious to get here that I really didn't eat..." her eyes trailed across the knife in his hand.

"Neeky. C'mere." He asked, with a tone he had never used before. Her eyes widened and she obeyed.

Toris smiled. She really was so pretty...

Strange urges came over him. He suddenly felt...different. if his sudden boner wasn't enough.

And what's the best way to cure a boner?

By stuffing it up a girl, of course!

He touched her face softly, a smile spreading across his face.

He ran his knife across her cheek, and Neeky did what any girl would have when a man began to force them to spread their legs.

She screamed.

Toris panicked and reached into her mouth, yanking her tongue out and slicing it off with the knife.

Sobbing, chocked garbled sobs came from her.

He raped her.

She shook so bad that her knees gave out. She fell on her rump.

It was only then that Toris had realized what he had done.

"Fuck..." he muttered. The demon forced him to rape her. He felt sick, running to the sink and vomiting inside.

He grabbed her wrist. He had to kill her. Or his own life would be in danger. He shoved her inside a room. He rummaged around, eventually found a rope. Moving quickly, he tied a noose.

Hanging it on a banister, he yanked Neeky onto a chair.

"Hang yourself. You have no point in living anymore."

She shook and cried. But she still obeyed.

She put the noose around her neck and tightened it.

She stepped of the chair, and let herself hang.

One down. Three to go.

After the murder of Neeky, Toris felt a bit cold and indifferent towards the whole concept of killing. Adrenaline was pushing through his veins, and satisfaction burned in his lower stomach.

/Once you make your first kill, you'll never want to stop.../

The delicious color of bright red dripped off the end of Toris' knife as he walked down the hallway, towards the children's rooms. He purposefully avoided the one Kaia was staying in; as much as the blood lust had consumed him, he still felt a twinge of guilt for killing the still-living girl's friend...and...raping her.

He went towards the rude children's rooms instead. Ashley's room was the first door, so he opened it boldly, knife in hand. The room was dark and desolate-looking. "Mistress Ashley?" He called icily into the black shadows.

No response.

From the next room over, came the sound of giggling. A sneer came across Toris' mouth - he didn't intend for it, it just occurred - and he shut Ashley's door, stepping towards the room where she must be: Justin's room.

Thinking this time, Toris slid the handle of the knife up into his sleeve before knocking. "Mistress Ashley, Master Justin." He crooned. "May I enter?" Before either of them could answer, he was already letting himself in.

The two children were sitting Indian-style on the floor, and looked quite unhappy to be disturbed. Justin narrowed his eyes plainly and snorted through his nose. "What do you want?" He asked.

"Oh, I only-"

"Are you gay?" Justin cut him off sharply. Amusement glittered in his dull, gray-blue eyes and a grin spread across his wide, chubby face. "You look really femme." He went on. "Do you take it up the ass?" Ashley giggled beside him, though she at least had the decency to cover her mouth, and bump her accomplice in the ribs.

Something gross shifted inside Toris' chest. He felt a cold sensation sweep through his insides with it, like slimy water, and suddenly, he was angry. "Oh, no," He chuckled darkly. "I'm not gay. In fact, I just had my way with that pretty doe a few doors down."

Toris lunged forwards with the knife.

Ashley was quicker than her friend. The blonde-haired maiden sprang to her feet lithely, dashing past Toris. He clipped her calf with his knife as she moved passed him, causing blood to drip down.

"Fuck!" Justin screamed in fear and perplexity. He reached his hands forwards and gripped Toris' wrist in his sweaty grasp. "Fucking go away, man!" He snarled, attempting to rise to his feet rapidly.

Toris knew he was stronger than this tubby, blonde boy. His foot shot out and caught the child in the gut, sending him rearing backwards into his back. A huff of air exited his wet, pink mouth as he did so, and Toris climbed on top of him, laughing.

"I'm sorry! Get off! Fuck! Get off!" Justin screamed in despair, tears pricking the corners of his eyes and soon rolling down his face.

A funny feeling overcame Toris' brain, as if something was tickling it. He laughed aloud, then picked up the knife and pressed the point lightly upon Justin's forehead. A thin stream of blood trickled down. "If we fall to Hell, we'll be rescued. If we ascend to Heaven, we'll meet again." Toris laughed, shoulders quivering with anticipation.

The silly boy didn't seem to understand. "You're a fucking psycho!" He screamed instead.

Blood squirted into the air as Toris drove the knife harshly into Justin's skull. The child opened his mouth in a soundless scream as Toris yanked the knife out, then pounded it into his head again. There was a sickening noise, like a watermelon being smashed, and Toris pushed and the blade in and out of Justin's head repeatedly, in various places.

Somewhere throughout the violence, Justin died. Toris wasn't really sure when, but he grew bored of stabbing the boy once his limbs remained still and his mouth stopped opening and closing mechanically. Brushing himself off, the slave rose to his feet.

An oval mirror beside the door revealed that Toris was covered in blood, and bits of shattered skull. It littered his clothes - the new clothes that Ivan had given him - and his face, dripping from his skin in beautiful scarlet droplets.

"If we fall to Hell..."

A tune bubbled out of Toris' throat as he exited the room and shut the door quietly behind him. A trail of blood in front of him indicated where Ashley went, and he smiled. This would be easy. The stupid girl hadn't even tried to make it to Kaia's room - she probably forgot where it was - and instead her blood drops let into the bathroom. It reminded Toris of Eduard.

"If we ascend to Heaven..."

Heavy breathing came from inside the bathroom as Toris reached the door, and he could hear someone scrabbling about inside. "Mistress Ashley," He called softly. "Open the door, dear. This was all a misunderstanding."

The breathing inside hitched, but no one answered. This annoyed Toris greatly. "Mistress. Open the door, please." He said again, forcing himself to keep a soothing tone. "I was just playing, silly girl."

There was a hesitant noise from inside. "W-where's Justin?" The girl asked in a whimper. "I h-heard him screaming! And...you cut me!"

Sighing, Toris ground his teeth together. "Open the door." He snarled. "Now."

"NO!" Ashley screamed. Toris pounded against the door with his fists in response.

Instead of screaming further, Ashley's voice changed into a strange, up and down tune. Pausing from banging on the door, Toris strained to listen: she was singing.

Nervous was her voice, as she was trying to calm herself down, but the words were still clear and haunting to Toris' ears. "What would it...what would it take? F-for things to be q-quiet...?" She sung in a whisper. "Q-quiet like the s-snow?"

As she continued, Toris' dug his knife into the crack of the door and slowly began to work it around, pushing it against the lock.

"A-and, I know...t-this isn't much, but, I..." She trailed off, and Toris supposed she noticed his knife poking through the door. A strangled son echoed inside the bathroom. "I-I don't think I deserve this s-selflessness!" She peeped shrilly. "Find your way into my hea-"

The lock clicked.

Toris yanked open the door.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Ashley screamed at the top of her beautifully pitched lungs. Her eyes widened, allowing Toris to get a full view of the beautiful globes: they were bright blue, with gold rings encircling the pupil. They were filled with broken dreams, loss, and despair.

Squealing with glee, Toris leapt upon her, shoving her onto the porcelain toilet with his hand clamped around her throat. Sweat was already building up upon her skin from fear, and her pulse throbbed insanely fast in her neck. Toris missed having a pulse.

Spreading her lips in terror, the girl let out a pitiful cry. "Please...please..." She gasped. "There's so much I haven't accomplished!" For the first time, Toris noticed she had a British accent.

Not that it mattered.

Sneering, Toris let his hot breath waft onto her youthful face. "You're an orphan." He spat. "Your life is worth nothing."

He leaned forwards, feeling icy tears spattering upon his head, and sank his teeth into her neck harshly. She gasped and struggled beneath him, fighting to pull away, or slide under him, but he only clenched his jaw harder upon her. After a moment, a soft clipping noise sounded, and Ashley's flesh tore. Warm, pulsing blood drained into Toris' ravenous mouth. It was heavenly.

"Please..." Ashley kept on pleading, her body going limp beneath Toris' own as he pulled his lips away and kicked the remnants of blood from them. "I never got to tell someone...that I was sorry for everything I've ever done to them!" Complete and total mortification blistered inside of her sad, sad eyes, but Toris felt no pity.

So why was he crying?

"If we fall to Hell, we'll be rescued. If we ascend to Heaven, we'll meet again." Toris hissed psychotically.

He plunged the knife into her stomach, and sifted it through her intestines and abdominal organs quickly. Then his hand grew still.

Mute fascination overtook his body as he watched red bloom out. It spread through her shirt and pants like a rapidly growing flower. Her chest quivered up and down slowly as she started to fade away.

"I don't deserve..." She croaked meekly, scarlet running out of the corner of her delicate mouth. "/Why/?"

Yanking the knife out of her, Toris got to his feet. Her blood had poured onto him, and now his pants were stained with it. He didn't care anymore. His laughter died in his throat.

Then the demon's power ebbed away.

"I'm sorry." Toris whispered, and he retreated from the room without a sound. The last thing he saw were Ashley's diamond-valued eyes being coated with the sickly film of the death, and then he shut the door.

Toris sighed and moved to Kaia's room. But when he opened the door, she wasn't there.

_Now where did that crumpet run off to?_

**Aveyond refrence~**

**I'll edit this when I get home.**

**I wrote your death Neeky~ Wasn't it yummy?**

**I'm prolonging Kaia's death just to piss Kaia off.**

**Is IT WoRKinG?!**

**Lol.**

**Apparently Kaia can speak Russian.**

**Дa. –Russian: Yes**

**Да, вы понимаюь?- Russian: Yes, you understand [me]?**

**Actually Kaia's death takes forever.**

**Kaia and Neeky are not a word according to this computer.**

**I forgot what I'm actually supposed to be doing in class. ._.**

**Review~**

**I'm making these shorter cuz….cuz.**


	7. Chapter 7

The darkness was pulsating throughout Toris' veins as he made his way down the hall, dragging his knife against the wall as he moved. A tearing noise split the air and echoed inside his desolate brain as he moved along, but no sound had ever seemed so sweet. He didn't even think about Miss Braginskaya, and how pissed she would be at him for ruining the wallpaper.

Kaia. Kaia was not her her room. She knew - she must have known - that Toris was murdering her friends. Maybe she found Neeky's body...

Toris laughed at the thoughts he was having. When he found that Kaia girl, he was going to cut her into so many pieces-!

Pausing in the middle of the hallway, Toris stabbed his knife into the wall and grabbed his ears on either side if his head. Aloud, he gasped, "What is wrong...with...me?!" The wretched demon must be putting these thoughts and feelings into him. It was practically consuming him, body and soul, and he despised the feeling. "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" He suddenly screamed in a garbled way, punching the wall with an alien brute force that he didn't know he possessed. He made a hole in the wall. He was that strong.

An insane laugh escaped his throat as he withdrew his hand, watching the cuts left on his knuckles slowly heal up, right before his eyes.

He was sick. He was revolting. He was...

Hah! What was he talking about? There was nothing wrong with him! Toris giggled maniacally as he strolled deeper into the twists and turns of the house, humming a demonic tune. "Oh, Kaia~!" He sang out. "Where are you?"

Fuck. Like she was going to tell that psychopath where she was! Everyone... her best friend, was dead.

And that servants eyes...They were not human.

And now he was screaming. For something to stop.

For something to get out of his head?

The boy couldn't be much older than herself, and he was committing murder like if it was nothing. As if they weren't even human. Sickness coming over her, the thought of Neeky's blood everywhere... She saw him make her hang herself. She saw him rape her.

And she wished she could have saved her.

Wishing she HAD saved her.

But she heard this voice... A child's voice, interfering with her thoughts. The child's voice female, and not quite Russian. More like one of those countries that are next to Russia, like that _monster _Toris had.

Taking in a breath, she sighed. She decided to look around a bit. She already tried the front door, but

She wasn't quite lost, she knew how to get back to where she started, but she also wasn't QUITE sure where was. Sighing, she walked into a room carefully.

There was a piano.

Kaia heard giggling off in the distance and shivered. As she entered, a tile from the cieling fell off and she screamed, looking up at the ceiling, she saw nothing but a hole.

She turned and walked over to the window, peeking out of it. All she saw was freedom from this wretched place.

She saw a umbrella pot, where you put umbrellas in, and saw a staff.

She picked it up and walked to the piano. A urge to play came over her, and played a low do, re, and mi.

Suddenly, a boy dropped from the ceiling, he was tall but young.

It made her feel SHORT.

"Kolkolkol~ You shouldn't play on my Mommys piano without permission!"

Surprise made Kaia jump backwards, fear sparking in her widened eyes. Her palms suddenly felt sweaty, and they clutched at the staff she held tighter, gazing up at the stranger. His face was deformed on one side, and his eyes were a horrific shade of purple. Was he...was he possibly the same as Toris?

"Maneken is breaking." The man-child said icily, his voice too high-pitched for his bulky body. A disapproving look frowned upon Kaia's tiny form. "It's your fault." He hissed,"You and all your friends. You're breaking him." and he reached behind him emotionlessly, grabbing something.

Kaia pulled the staff backwards, contemplating hitting the child in the face. Her heart fluttered in her chest like a hummingbird. She noticed soft bruises covering the gigantic child's face, and pity overtook her momentarily, so she lowered the staff.

"Natalia needs to eat." The boy said in a manner that was almost morose. "And if Maneken can't feed her, I will." Sharp, silvery blades flashed suddenly as he yanked out a huge pair of scissors from behind him. Remnants of dried blood glittered crimson on the edges, and crusted on the sides.

Kaia bit her tongue, stepped back, and screamed. Her back bumped into the piano and a overbearing sense of dread took over her body. She was trapped! She was going to die in this house of psychopaths!

The child holding the scissors chuckled. "Hold still and maybe Ivan will be merciful." He pulled his arms back, opening the scissors wide and scaling her neck.

Slowly, Kaia closed her eyes.

"Aha! I found you!" Someone was suddenly squealing. Kaia opened her eyes in time to see Toris in the doorway, a bloody knife clutched in his hand and a grin on his face. "Why'd you run my dear?" He crooned, stalking into the room.

The scissor-man lowered his weapon, casting Toris a gloomy look. "Stop it." He hissed quietly, narrowing his eyes and drilling them into the other. "Stop.../breaking/, Maneken, or you're going to be punished!" His hands shook slightly. "You're supposed to be sad! Killing should sadden you!"

Kaia was confused. Why was he calling Toris "Maneken"? Her body shook. She took a deep breath.

A crazed laugh escaped Toris' blood-flecked lips. "Shut up." He snarled in a way that was most definitely inhuman. "I'm stronger than you." He spat, nearing them with knife ready.

/I have to get away. I have to get away./ Adrenaline gushed through Kaia's veins. There was no other choice. She was going to die if she didn't act.

Ivan turned his head to look at Toris. He opened his mouth slightly, about to speak.

No words ever came out.

Kaia swung her arms as hard as she could, and cracked the staff across the twisted side of his face. It met the soft skin harshly, splitting it, and sending the scissor-man crashing to the floor, his weapons clattering beside him. Blood dirtied the staff and began to seep from the large gash in Ivan's face.

He started to scream.

It was almost as if those screams brought Toris to sanity, or something. The filthy knife dropped from his hand, and his red eyes widened with fear. "M-master I-Ivan..!" He trembled, and plucked the knife up again, coming forwards to the prostrated man-child.

Kaia didn't waste time to see what happened. She honestly didn't care. Taking her staff clutched near to her, she dashed past Toris as fast as he could go. He seemed to not care as she rocketed away, zooming down the hallways as fast as her feet would carry her, and taking random twists and turns to confuse her enemies, lest they be pursuing her.

It wasn't long before she was panting, her chest heaving heavily up and down and perspiration slicking her skin. Her hair clung damply upon her forehead and her lips felt dry and cracked. Plus, she had no idea where she was.

Glancing around herself, Kaia surveyed that she was in a long hallway, with nothing but windows scattered to the left, and painting to her right. The windows looked find and recently cleaned, and as she checked each one of them to see if they were unlocked, she wondered /who/ kept this gigantic place so nice-looking. How many monsters lived here?!

As she turned a corner into a windowless hallway, Kaia glanced at the paintings. They were strange ones: some of distorted faces, some of dark clouds, and some of people. She found a picture of what looked to be that "Ivan" person, who she had smashed the staff into...except he was smaller. The child was portrayed as a small boy, half of his face disfigured, sitting beside a window with a yellow sunflower clutched in his hand. It was almost the same size as himself.

_How could something so innocent turn into something so murderous?_ Kaia thought absentmindedly as she picked up her pace, half-walking and half-jogging down the hallway. She glanced at the paintings as she went by, noting that the one of the young woman with the large breasts seemed slightly familiar...

The dark hallway ended with a window...except it appeared to have no glass. Wind was blowing through it, fluttering the velvet red curtains. Kaia rushed over to it, hurriedly measuring its size: It was big enough.

She could fit through.

Not even checking to see where it led first, Kaia hauled herself upwards. It was a bit of a struggle at first, and she skinned her knee against the sill at one point, but finally she pulled herself through and came tumbling out on the other side, staff clutched to her chest.

She was surprised whenever she realized she wasn't in the giant mansion anymore, but rather, outside.

Her hands touched soft, wet dirt, and her lungs took in the fresh air. /I'm in a garden.../ Multicolored flowers surrounded her, and twisted themselves above the sparkling surface of a clear pond while an angel statue stood erect in the center. An iron archway led into the depths of a nearby wood. Kaia could escape!

Lurching to her feet, and letting her shaking, sweating legs support her trembling body, Kaia ran for the archway. The taste of freedom was so sweet upon her tongue... She was going to live! This little hellhole could kiss her goodbye! The brief thought of the orphan matron, Miss Braginskaya, crossed her mind as she entered the woods, but Kaia ignored them. The woman was probably dead anyways. There was no way Kaia was going back into that place!

Branches whipped her legs and bushes clawed at her ankles as she moved, but Kaia could care less.

She didn't feel when they tore into her skin, she didn't feel when they left little streaks of bright red leaking from tiny holes. As soon as she got to the nearest town, Kaia would go to the police, and tell them everything. She would make these demonic men pay for what they did to her friends!

A light shone through the shadows of the trees, and Kaia propelled herself forwards at a faster pace. She would be out of the woods! Maybe there was a road on the other side, or, better yet, civilization! "H-help!"

The girl cried out in excitement and terror as she leapt through the trees, into the light. "There's murder-"

She stopped mid-sentence.

She was back at the garden. Back at the house. She had gone in a straight line though, so why had this happened?!

"N-no...no..."

She whimpered.

There was no escape.

As if drawn by invisible strings, Kaia walked towards the stone angel. She tapped her staff along the ground as she went, frowning. She felt desolate and alone, doomed. She didn't want to die. "Please, don't let them kill me..." She pleaded to no one in particular. Only the ruffle of plants in the wind answered her.

Then, a twig snapped.

"You deserve worse than death." A voice said monotonously, and before she could turn, Kaia felt something lash across her shoulder blades. She screamed, and whirled around, only to find someone's hands in her hair, and long nails digging into her scalp.

"L-let me go!" She screamed, swinging her staff backwards and whacking it at her attacker. She was unable to hit very hard, and just ended up getting slapped. Fire coursed through her face when she finally looked up, determined, and she met the face of someone... "M-Miss Braginskaya?!" Kaia's jaw dropped.

The woman who had practically given her life was standing there, holding her by the hair, with a dulled dagger in her other hand. Her eyes were like two bottomless pits of fury and her mouth was drawn into a scowl. "How dare you touch my son!" She howled, spittle flying all over Kaia's face.

"Let...me...go!" She twisted around and dug her teeth into Miss Braginskaya's arm, causing the woman to squeak and release her grip on her hair. Kaia staggered backwards, and was about to turn to flee, but Miss Braginskaya lifted her leg and smashed it into her stomach harshly. Kaia fell to the ground, dirt getting into her nose and mouth, and Miss Braginskaya stepped on her, keeping her pinned to the ground.

"You will pay pack his pain times 1,000, little girl." The orphanage matron promised. Kaia clenched her hand around her staff and shut her eyes, trying to think of a way out of the nightmare she was trapped in.

Ms. Braginskaya looked down upon Kaia with disgust, which shocked the girl, for she always respected the Matron.

Even if she always looked down upon her, everyone did. No one at the orphanage was shorter than her height.

Braginskaya however looked away, and walked back to the mansion slowly. Kaia sat up and watched her, she had a small limp in her walk, and she wondered if Toris, or his master did that.  
She had to find a way out.

Moving slowly back to the house, she slowly walked inside. shaking and crying, the scent of death making her nose cringe with disgust. A strong copper blood scent. It was almost appealing, _almost. _As any natural human, it made a sick feeling, but she still went to it. It was...burning almost. She slowly went to the room Neeky died in, the girl unforgotton in her memory. Neeky's hair was so soft, angelic almost.

They girl ascended to heaven, no doubt.

As she peeked in, she saw Toris bring a butcher knife down hard, and something lopped into a pot.

He was chopping meat, and began cooking it. She bravely walked in.

Toris instantly took acknowledge of her and smiled. It wasn't that sick, demented smile as he had before, this one expressed kindness. Who he was originally.

"Hello Mistress Kaia~! How are you?" He asked, continuing making the pasta like meal. She just stared in shock. This was the person, a few years elder, who was trying to kill her a moment ago. Now he's cooking..?

"I-I am f-fine, Toris..." She stared "What are you doing...?"

"Oh~...It's cooking time now, miss." He smiled. Toris continued chopping the meat into tinier bits, and dropping them into the pot, humming softly. Soft crying from the corner made her snap her neck into the direction.

She saw the deformed boy, his scissors next to him, staring at her.

"I-Ivan...it's Ivan right? Why do you cry?" She asked, visibly shaking. Everyone was taller than her, and it made her feel small and weak. The counters were at the height of her breasts.

"I broke him...my Maneken. He was perfect when he came... and I turned him into this…. schizophrenic psychopath." He turned into the corner, as if he was a child in timeout, crying hard.

Toris however, seemed to be wrapping up the meal, and he spooned a bowl for what seemed like everyone, and a extra. Himself, Ivan, , her, and another. she figured there was someone else in this demonic mansion.

He walked to a table that was in the room, and put three bowls at it. Ivan slowly got up and went to a bowl, and began eating. Toris went to the other and did the same.

"Kaia, c'mere." Toris said, "Have some soup." He said with a genuine smile. Kaia nodded and went to a bowl. It looked quite delicious, to be honest. She sat down and took a bite. The soup was quite good too. Taking a bite of the meat, it tasted similer to chickan, despite it's resemblence to beef. The noodles were thin and rather hard to digest. This white squishy substance tasted salty and disintegrated in her mouth. Something made her stomach ache, and she frowned. She pushed the meal away.

"Do you not like it, Kaia?" Toris smile turned twisted.

"It's _angel hair soup._"

A sick feeling washed over Kaia, and it felt like needles were being staved into her gut. All the blood drained from her face, and a cold sweat crept over her small body.

"Is something wrong?" Toris asked with a chuckle, the skin beneath his eye twitching in a haunting way. He reached over, diving his hand into her soup and plucking out a dripping piece of meat. "Angels are so _sweet." _He purred, popping the meat into his mouth and biting down with a sickening crunch.

Lurching over, Kaia almost emptied her stomach onto the floor. She couldn't stop shaking. "Oh god..." She gasped, saliva dripping from her mouth in long strands and hitting the floor. She could hear Toris' insane laughter above her.

Surprisingly, the timid voice that spoke belonged to Ivan. His eyes were posey red and puffed underneath, and there were glistening streaks beneath his eyes where tears had dried to his skin. "Stop it, Maneken." He murmured, voice wavering. "Stop being so /mean/. Come back to the way you were..."

When Kaia looked up, she saw the boy looked like he was about to cry once more. A twinge of pity stirred her heart, but she felt too ill to say anything. Instead she pushed herself up from the table and slowly inched away.

Ignoring Ivan's whimpers, Toris turned to look at her. His big red eyes were glistening like damp rubies beneath the crystal light of dawn. "Where are you going, sweetling?" He inquired darkly, slender fingers twitching in a way that reminded Kaia of a cat waiting to hunt.

Swallowing her fear, Kaia forced a crooked smile to her blood-drained face. "I don't feel good." She laughed in a hoarse whisper. "I need to go lay down."

She scurried out the door before psycho Toris could say anymore. After three steps she buckled over, onto her knees, and threw up her best friend.

She watched the colors and chunks of the liquid swirl together on the floor, and the nauseating thought that _this_ used to be Neeky made her even more sick, and her body convulsed again, but there was nothing left to throw up. Shaking, she forced herself to her feet and wiped her face, ignoring the tears in her eyes.

"Shame." Toris cooed. He was peering around the corner, staring out at her from the kitchen. "I'll have to clean that up now."

Kaia began backing up as Toris frowned sadly.

"I don't want to clean... I hate cleaning..." A sudden rage seemed to come over him as he shoved Kaia into the acidic slush of Neeky. Kaia screamed as Toris slowly backed up into the next room. Ivan slowly walked from the kitchen, holding his bowl of Neeky soup, spooning bits into his mouth.

"Stupid... You stupid stupid...Cunt!" He growled, placing the bowl on a random table. He reached into his pockets and threw something at her head, in which she cried in pain. She picked up the object, and looked at it. It seemed to be a key.

"Go feed yourself to Natalia." He smirked. He yanked her up and dragged her out of the hallway. He pulled her into another room. Kaia pulled roughly away, frightened to as of what he would do. Ivan didn't bother to turn on the lights, he just let go of her wrist.

"This is a robe." He thrust at her, then sprayed perfume on her body.

"A doggie guards the Cradle Under The Star. He'll think you're mommy if you wear this. Put that staff in the Celadon vase, and go down." He shoved her. "You broke Maneken. I want YOU gone." He shoved her out of the room, and didn't come out himself.

Kaia trembled slightly, as she slid the robe over herself. She didn't know who this Natalia was, but she hoped she would help her out of this nightmare.

Unfortunately, she wasn't quite sure where this room was.

She wandered around for quite some time, peeking into random rooms. Finally acheiving the one with a celadon vase. There was a Satanic star on the ground, and a ritual that held a dead crow. She walked up to the little shrine-like stand, and looked at it. There was an engraving on it.

"Time...will cause...adherence...What does that mean?" She questioned, before walking to the vase and putting the staff in it, jumping back in shock when a trap door opened in the center of the star.

And she desended.

**For those of you who have seen this game, you know where it's going.**

**SarentoKensei is really bored and creepy and stupid Vanya Heart has a stupid(Big vocab eh?) Gay-Straight-Alliance. Fucking gays and their rights….(No one call me a bitch. I'm joking. I write gay love stories all the time. (Hell, this story COULD be one I demand it.))**

**Nevertheless, I came up with this short story whilst walking slowly home(To occupy myself from the lack of my friend.)**

**I wanted to share it with you. It's about Vanya, and how she texts me in class.(Don't do it children, unless you're Vanya Heart.)(And don't worry, I'm not using your real name Vanya. I'm also going to try and embarrass you.)**

**Here we go:**

_**The beautiful and amazing Vanya flipped her short Lithuania hair slightly to keep it from her eyes. She was in her French class and was writing down phrases in the language which might be useful to her in the future.**_

_**Her phone vibrated, and she had a slight suspicion of who the sender was. She pulled out her Iphone and checked.**_

_**She was right. It was from Sarento. That girl was so demanding and full of herself…. Which was understandable, she is pretty fucking amazing.**_

_**She read the RussLiet roleplay they were doing, and smirked, and started taping quickly on her screen as not to get caught. Because she**__** never **__**got caught.**_

_**However, it would seem as her statement to Sarento: "I NEVER GET CAUGHT!" would be wrong, as her teacher, Mr. Person (This is my health teachers name if you're wondering Vanya), loomed darkly over her shoulder.**_

"_**Whatcha got there Vanya?" He asked, snatching the phone out of her hands. Vanya yelped in surprise.**_

"_**H-hey!" she meeped, startled.**_

"_**Problem, dear? Alright, who wants me to read our little rebels text?" He asked, the whole class near shouted.**_

"_**I DO!"**_

_**Mr. Person chuckled and scrolled to the top of Vanya's thread and stopped at a specific message and read:**_

"_**Russia: *thrusts harder, digging nails into back* Stupid whore! You deserve this punishment!" He paused, indicating the next message was from Sarento "Lithuania: *screams and cries, then whimpering in pain* N-ne… Master! Please….stop! *Blood gushes onto the couch*" He paused again.**_

"_**Russia: *throws onto the ground like trash* Get out of my sight. I'm done with you, slut." He growled" Vanya sunk lower into her seat as he continued to read the thread.**_

_**When Mr. Person was finally done, and Vanya was redder than a albino Prussian's eyes, he gave her phone back.**_

_**At the end of class, several kids patted her on the back, in which the easily frightened Russian girl flinched.**_

"_**Nice rape Vanya."**_

"_**Yeah, who knew you could be so dark and twisted."**_

_**A boy said "I have a boner…."**_

_**Another girl ran up to her, grinning wildly "You like RussLiet too!" She laughed "I dub you my Lithuania and me Russia! You are now my slave!"**_

**Moral or the story: Always always always always always sext your friends in class.**

**This also never happened to her. I made it up.**

**I love you Vanya~~~**


	8. Chapter 8

As Kaia made her way down the slime-covered steps, she was overcome with fear. Darkness loomed before her like the blackest piece of a midnight sky, and yet, she could not go back and hope to live. She went down. The stairs stopped, and the floor turned to stone.

"Good riddance." Ivan snarled behind her, voice shrill and childish, and there was a loud bang as the trap door closed.

A scream almost rained forth from Kaia's throat just at the very noise, but she caught herself, covering her mouth with trembling hands. Now she was completely enveloped in the wretched darkness. Tears welled up in her eyes and her throat tightened, so she squished shut her eyes and began walking forwards.

Wet stone guided her hands as she pressed them against the wall. It was almost as if she was in a cave...was she?

The world was timeless, it seemed...but then, there was a light; the illumination of yellow lit up the backs of Kaia's eyelids. She blinked.

A torch burned, angelic in its brightness, on the cave wall before her. It illuminated the fabric of her long, black cloak, and made it shimmer. "T-thank god..." Kaia reached out and gripped it in her hands, pulling it away and holding it tightly.

She took one more step forwards.

Something snarled.

For a moment she was afraid some new sort of demon would be hiding in the shadows, but then she remembered Ivan saying something about a dog. _And because of the cloak and perfume, it will think I'm "mommy"._

Glassy emerald eyes danced in the shadows and white fangs flashed. _I'm safe, I'm safe... _As silent as she could, Kaia crept forwards, her fingers clutching at the cloak despairingly as doubt clouded her mind. The dog eyed her suspiciously, but it did not attack, and she got past.

She went through what at first appeared to be a tunnel...but it was not. It was more like the frame of a door, carved out of rock, about a foot long in its thickness. She went through it, torch in hand, and then emerged into a cavern graced with color.

Torches burned across every inch of cave wall, and it was bursting in shades of rustic orange and yellow. But, there had to be a way out – Ivan wanted her gone – and lo and behold: there, nestled in the walls of the flame licked rock stood a shabby looking entrance to an elevator.

Benevolence made the girl's body quiver to where she almost dropped her torch. "Oh thank god! Thank god!" she cried, dashing forwards, and realizing at the last moment that she wouldn't need the torch anyways, so she tossed it aside. It sputtered and died in the moistness of the cave floor, and Kaia merrily hopped into the elevator and pressed her finger on the button that she figured would take her out of this place.

Nothing happened.

"No...no...nonononono!" Kaia pressed the button more, repeatedly, sweat beading cold on her skin...but nothing happened. "NONONONONO DONT BE BROKEN! YOU CAN'T BE BROKEN!" She started screaming at the top of her lungs and almost pounded on the elevator walls, but thought it unwise to do so. Instead she thrust herself out of it, fell to her knees, gripped her hair, and cried.

She would have given up, shriveled into a ball and died of grief there, had not a noise interrupted her wails. It wasn't very loud, and yet, perhaps it was the massiveness of the cave that amplified it and made it noticeable. It was almost like the whimper of a baby, or a small child – the soft "ooh" of immature emotions – but yet, it also held the properties of a pig, when it snorts.

That one sound made Kaia's heart start pumping again. She pushed herself up to her feet, and made her way towards the sound. _What the hell was that...? Are they keeping a child in here?_ She wasn't sure exactly what to do...but Kaia called out, "Hello?"

The same noise answered, though it sounded more like a moan this time. Shuddering, Kaia crept to the edge of a cliff face, that was notched in...as if it were a place for someone to climb down. Biting down her fear, and pumping herself up with the natural maternal instinct of a female, Kaia put her feet in the notches, and made her way down.

Once she reached the bottom she was met with a horrific smell, like rotten meat and nicotine. She spotted a giant pentagram, painted in chalk, off to the side of her. Unlit candles surrounded it, and a bowl of crushed herbs lay dried in the center. _If there is a child here...what are they doing to it?_

Her eyes also caught, behind the pentagram, a semi-steep hill that led back up to where she had came. However, at the top of the hill, rested bright red bottles of kerosene. _All the torches..._

"Oooooh..." The noise came again, louder this time, and laced with anguish and sorrow.

Turning away from the direction she was facing, Kaia's eyes caught the flash of red curtains up ahead. She approached them slowly; they were expensive velvet, and billowed in and out softly like a pair of lungs. The heroism died in her chest, but still Kaia forced her hands to grip those crimson curtains and yank them apart...only to behold an untold horror.

She screamed automatically upon the sight of it, turning her eyes away, but not before she noticed the clanking gold collar around its neck, reading: Natalia.

The creature lumbered towards her, it's grotesque, pale flesh twitching in lumpy rolls of yellow fat and it's veins pulsating blue and thick. It opened its reeking mouth to reveal rotting pointed teeth and moaned, "Oo...ooh!" before continuing at a quicker pace on its course – towards Kaia.

Ripping the cavern air with a scream, Kaia turned and ran for her life. She heard the thing quicken it's pace behind her, and felt its hands and feet pound the floor, making it vibrate. Hot air – breath – licked her ankles.

Not having time to climb the notches, Kaia dashed for her only hope – the hill. As she passed the pentagram, she knocked over candles and the herb-filled bowl, hoping to stall Natalia. Then, she threw herself at the hill, and started to climb.

It was steep, and halfway up the dirt started to give way, and she started to slip back down. Excited, hungry noises burst up from beneath her, and tears burst from Kaia's eyes. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" She screamed, clawing her way up as much as she could and thrusting the kerosene bottles at the beast. A few of them appeared to be open, for liquid splashed onto the creatures body, and some in its eyes, making it groan in pain.

Still, the hill was slipping out from underneath her. Kaia was so close to the top! A torch burned, inches away from her fingers, against the wall by the hill; it's long body looked tempting – a light in the darkness now more than ever. Stretching and clawing to the best of her ability, Kaia snagged it in her hands, and pulled herself up. She made it to the top of the hill, gasping, and slippery from perspiration so much that the torch fell right out of her fingers.

It cascaded down with a whoosh of discontent...and landed right on Natalia's distorted face.

Animalistic screams and sobs rang from the creature as the fire reacted with the kerosene, and soon it was a blazing pile of twisting flesh. The scent was even more horrific than the original one that possessed Kaia's nostrils. It even brought tears to her eyes, and she stumbled back and darted away.

She couldn't think of where to go, so she went inside the elevator and shut herself in, trying to block out the screams. After a while, they quieted...and the elevator buttons came to life.

"N-no..." She uttered in disbelief, but stood and poked her finger against one anyways.

The elevator shuddered...and then started to move, taking her to its set destination: the second floor.

The elevator moved slowly, in a slow and rickety manner, in which Kaia was most terrified. She had lived this long, and refused to die in such a dreadful way.

As soon as the doors opened to the second floor of this horrific mansion in which she had no doubt many lives had been lost to this...cultist ritual. She slowly, for she didn't trust standing there would do her much good, and quite possibly get her killed; she walked down to the next hallway. What lingered in that hallway terrified her.

She saw Ms. Braginskaya standing there, the lady who birthed the demonic boy Ivan...whose slave frightened her far more.

"Kaia..." A sick grin looked twisted on such beautiful features; she held something behind her full figure.

"You've been such a terrible daughter." She began walking towards her, Kaia's hands raised in a protective position as she came near.

"MY SON IS DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!" She wailed, pulling a knife from behind. Kaia screamed out of fear, and grabbed her arm, shaking as Ms. Braginskaya put her weight into her horrid attempt to mutilate the short girl.

Luckily Kaia wasn't weak, and shoved the Matron to the ground, running past her with the quickest of speeds short legs could go.  
She ran into a gray room with various bits of debris scattered along the floor. Two domed-like hallways, she heard that dread sound of scissors snapping, loud pure metals clashing together, from the first domed hallway and sprinted down to the next.

Rain was falling, wetting her face and blowing harshly. She glanced back and saw Ms. Braginskaya slowly making her way towards the trembling girl. Fear visibly raked down the small girls spine. She sprinted out towards the edge of the balcony, she had nowhere to go!

Screaming erupted from her throat as she saw Ms. Braginskaya slowly closing in on the innocent girl who had done absolutely nothing wrong.

Kaia contemplating killing herself by jumping off the balcony, anything had to be better than being stabbed to her death.

She glanced down, it would be so quick and easy...but there was that possibility she would live...

Finally, the child glanced around wildly in hopes to find another-Wait! She saw a ladder ascending into the Clock Tower, and having no other choice, she ran as fast as her short legs could possibly go, and began taking her foot rim of the ladder, using the muscles she had to push herself up higher.

She saw the horribly angry Ms. Braginskaya put the blade she held between her teeth and began climbing the ladder behind Kaia, ascending quicker than the other and grabbing her ankle.

"NO!" Kaia's voice pierced loudly, echoing of the walls and becoming lost in the falling rain.

In utter fear and self defense, she kicked downwards as hard as hard as she could, into Ms. Braginskaya's face, hearing a dreadfully sickening crack of her nose snapping. The big breasted 'matron' screamed, and grabbed her nose, heels slipping and plummeting straight to her death.

Glancing down, Kaia looked down in horror as Ms. Braginskaya, the woman who raised so many orphans, including her, spine snap in half on the ledge, at the bottom of the balcony. Her body slipped downwards, to where Kaia could no longer see her.

"Mommy!" She heard that childish voice of that demonic child. She winced at the pain in his voice, and glared up at her. He began quickly climbing the ladder, far faster than her, and she began to really climb, not wanting to meet the same horrid fate as her old matron.

The clock Tower was unmoving, frozen.

The time read 11:59.

She thrust herself inside the eerie room in which, held the controls of the Clock Tower.

There was another ledge at the other side of the room.

"Time...will cause...adherence...?" She muttered under her breath, and ran to the control switch.

She pulled one down, when she saw red eyes of the one that killed her friend in the shadows of the dark room.

She pulled down the other switch, as Ivan was nearing her.

The bells of the Clock Tower chimed loudly, and Ivan threw his scissors down onto the ground and clutched his head, he began backing up as Kaia sat on the ground, praying to the Lord she didn't believe in that he would die.

The Lord obviously did not exist here, for this, was a living nightmare,

The demon with red eyes, with a face that read he was once good, grabbed the Scissor Man and pulled him from the ledge and onto the ground, saving him from a bloody death into the Clock Tower's gears.

Toris grabbed the girl's wrists, a tightening grip that bruised, still despising her for hurting his master, and threw her into the electrical unit.

The girl screamed, sickening and full of agonized pain, as her insides were fried to and fro.

Finally she fell limp, her screams lasting but a moment, dead.

"Disgraceful and wretched girl..." Ivan growled and picked up his scissors, placing each end of the blade around her tan throat, and snapped the scissors shut.

Her head lopped pathetically off, and Toris laughed cruelly as it rolled away. He kicked her head, as her body leaked out blood as if it was a fountain. Kaia's head, hair singed ever so slightly, tumbled into the gears. Both boys smirked, as the skull was torn up, and blood sprayed their cheeks.

Ivan laughed, almost bitterly.

"Good riddance, to them all." Was all he said and walked back to the exit of the Clock Tower, where Kaia originally entered.

"M-master." He said as he followed slowly behind him.

"Ah, little Manikin…." Ivan said with a smile, "We are both, finally free of this wretched place."

Strangely, everything seemed happier now. The crushing weight of insanity that rested on Toris' shoulders was not lifted, but it was lightened, one could say. As for Ivan, with his family out of the picture, he no longer has the obligation to act cruelly, although those ways did not disappear either.

"Master..." Toris murmured softly, his face still wet with red droplets. "Do you think we should let your father out?"

For a moment, Ivan was silent, as if he had completely forgotten he even had a father. The large child placed his finger against his chin pensively, and chewed upon his scarf. "Sure!" He finally chirped. "Let's get daddy!"

The pair, as if nothing had occurred, made their way out of the house and towards the shed where Mr. Jones was kept. The rain was still pounding down upon the ground like angry feet, but it no longer felt like a menace. The gray clouds became soft wool, and the screaming wind became a song.

"Mr. Jones, are you in here?" Toris asked – a stupid question because it wasn't like there was anywhere for the man to go, but it seemed polite. The musky scent of the shed crawled up the boys nostrils and coiled around inside them, causing him to cough. He wondered how weak Mr. Jones was, and how easy it would be to kill him.

"Mh? Yeah, I'm here, bro." The man replied in his raspy dehydrated voice. His bright blue eyes flashed in the darkness, oceans glittering as the sun hit their surface. "Someone's with you." He observed, squinting.

Instead of greeting him, Ivan hid himself behind Toris, making sure the deformed side of his face especially was concealed.

"It's your son, Ivan," Toris went on to tell him, still imagining the man's dead body strewn out on the ground – but no, he couldn't do that, Ivan would be angry. "we've come here to liberate you. Mrs. Braginskaya and Natalia are dead, and we must get out of this...this cursed place as speedily as possible."

A strange look came across Mr. Jones' face, and he tipped his head to one side, then to the other. He then burst into abrupt, insane laughter, squealing with delight, "Ding-dong, the witch is dead! The wicked witch, the witch is dead~!"

Toris raised his eyebrows - the man was positively bonkers - but, of course, they all were, so he supposed it didn't matter. However, he realized he was never given access to the key to Mr. Jones' cage, so he cast a glance back at his young master, then tilted his head towards the cage.

"Oh!" Ivan uttered, clenching his giant pair of scissors in his fists. "Let's see if it'll..." He murmured to himself as he stepped up to the cage and put the blades around the lock that held the door shut.

Mr. Jones stared up at him in awe; Ivan's pale white skin seemed to glisten in the soul eating blackness, and his purple eyes were like illuminated Christmas lights to the man. He stared at his son, and thought how amazing he appeared, not even acknowledging the marred side of Ivan's face. He barely saw the blood spray on his clothes either, nor heard the snap of the enormous pair of scissors as Ivan split the lock in half, and the cage creaked open.

"Alright, papa..." The child murmured almost silently. Toris marveled at how shy he had suddenly become. "You're free..."

Instead of dashing past them to meet the fresh air that had so long been denied from him, and the bountiful water that poured from the sky, Mr. Jones bounded forwards and threw his arms around Ivan, holding his son in a loving and viciously tight embrace.

For a second, Ivan looked afraid. His spine straightened like an arrow and he clutched at his scissors in despair. However, after a few moments of being under the loving touch of his father (who he was much taller than) the giant child relaxed and closed his eyes.

"I'm so glad to finally meet you." Mr. Jones sighed happily, petting through his son's hair with his calloused, filthy fingers. "The last time I saw you, you were fresh from your mothers womb... Have you been a good boy?" He asked, chuckling to himself.

Ivan nodded vigorously. "Oh yes, daddy! Me and Manikin have been very good!"

Mr. Jones made a face. "Manikin? That's an unusual name..." He looked over at Toris, who looked down and scuffed his feet, clawing his wrist with one hand.

"Ah, well, I named him that because he's stupid but his real name is Toris." Ivan grinned, pulling away from his father to throw his arms around Toris' neck, practically crushing him. "He likes my name better." He stated blatantly. Toris thought it best not to respond to that.

At this Mr. Jones frowned, but he didn't say anything, noticing the slightly psychotic demeanor Ivan. The boy did carry around a massive pair of scissors, after all. "I see..." Was all he said, instead, staring Toris over. "It's so dark in here, let's go outside, guys!" He suddenly exclaimed, breaking away from them and sprinting out the door.

Toris and Ivan followed him out into the rain, more slowly; Ivan dragged his scissors behind him with one hand, and clutched Toris' elbow with the other, and Toris folded his hands in front of him in a rather womanly way.

The cold air was nothing to Mr. Jones, and he spread his arms up towards the sky, and beamed up at the falling rain. It splashed all over his dirt-smothered body and slowly began to cleanse him. Dirt rolled off his skin in large, murky droplets, and sandy brown-blonde hair was revealed, along with his old, tattered clothing.

Finally, Ivan interrupted the silence. "Papa," He said quietly, fiddling with his scarf. "I don't wanna live here anymore."

Toris nodded in agreement, although he thought the place wasn't that bad. Sure, a few murders and a rape occurred inside the place, but that was all fun and games...wasn't it? Toris wasn't sure how to feel anymore, and the demon in his chest hungered for blood. _That demon... _Tears beaded in the boy's eyes. _Who am I? _He didn't even know anymore.

Giggling, Mr. Jones took a hold of each one of their hands. "There's a mansion, out in England." He told them in a sing-song voice. "A mansion, never used, that I own, and your mother too...and no atrocities ever happened there, I assure you!" He then let go of them and twirled around in a circle. "We'll go there, man, in my car...I bet it still runs! In the garage! Get on a plane, go to England, to our perfect mansion where we'll have a perfect family!"

Ivan's face lit up. "Da! A perfect family, and no one will ever be sad again..." He touched the deformed side of his face, absentmindedly.

Feeling a slight pang of pity for the child, Toris patted him on the shoulder. "I'll pack, master." He said. "You won't ever have to go back in that house again." He smiled kindly, the demon inside him forgotten for a moment, and Ivan looked at him and smiled in return.

**Oh my gosh. I never realized how long this was. Nyah... **

**Hi, people~. Sarento doesn't feel like editing, so I did. This is Vanya~. I'm really bored because I hate editing with a passion, but oh well. I hope this pleases you, _master_. 3**

…**.my butt hurts from sitting on the floor so long. **


	9. Chapter 9

Everything seemed to be lightening up, from the gloomy sky, to the expressions on Ivan and Mr. Jones' face. Although there was a bit of an argument at the begging over who was capable of better navigation - inexperienced Toris or rusty Mr. Jones - it was decided that the senior would drive. Toris wasn't in the mood for arguing anyways.

Having no belongings, Toris had only packed Ivan's things - they now rattled along in the back of the car while Mr. Jones drove the car down the rocky road - and Ivan had brought his scissors in the car with him. The large sharp objects made Toris very uncomfortable but he spoke not a word to his master for fear of being punished for something stupid. However, Ivan seemed to be treating Toris fairly better now. Toris wasn't sure why, but he assumes it may be due to his mental breakdowns that occurred every now and then. The demon within Toris seemed to have snapped his sanity in half like a carrot.

"Is England pretty, daddy?" Ivan piped up from beside his slave, in the back seat. The sunlight that broke through the thin glass of the window pane made the deformed side of his face glow and sparkle like tin foil. His eyes glittered just as brightly but with a sense of actual glee to them. Toris felt awkwardly glad that he was happy for once.

Keeping a grip on the black leather wheel, Mr. Jones casually replied, "In some places. A lot is a bit gloomy and full of wind and rain." This seemed to dampen Ivan's spirits, so the man added, "O-oh! But, only in some places, as I said, boy."

"Ura~!" Clapping his large child-hands, Ivan turned his body and peered down at Toris with puppy eyes. "Manikin! It's going to be so fun, da? We'll be so happy!" That said, he threw his thick arms around his slave and pressed him into a warm and loving hug. It was a bit awkward, and Toris saw Mr. Jones monitoring him from the rear view mirror. Out of politeness, he merely hugged Ivan back and gave the space between his shoulder blades a few pats. "Yes, master. It will be all you ever dreamed..." He promised in a daze.

"Oh Manikin! You better be right!" A grin splashed across Ivan's face and turned from childish to evil in an instant. "You better not mess up _any_ of my happiness." He warned.

Toris took heed. "Of course, master! I-I'd never ruin anything for you, sir..." He murmured softly. Fear crept up his spine and made him fidget awkwardly. Suddenly the demon inside him seemed to be whispering and he moaned with horror. Not even knowing why, Toris clutches his chest and bashed his own head against the window. Repeatedly, thuds split the air, and giggles bubbles from Toris' smiling lips.

Angry and yet mortified, Ivan ripped his slave away and gave him a smack to the head. "Nyet! Bad Manikin!" He hissed furiously, making Toris lay down in the car with his feet facing the window and his upper body halfway upon Ivan's lap. It was easy-access for Ivan to restrain him. "Be good." He commanded.

Through his insanity, Toris found his obedience and obliged, although he had to keep himself occupied by chewing on the edges of Ivan's loose shirt. Either the man-child didn't notice, or he didn't care, for he made no comment or complaint.

After a while of this, and Mr. Jones getting into a very boring story about befriending a lonely mouse while he was a prisoner, the car finally pulled up to a stop. They had arrived at a humongous place that neither Ivan nor Toris had ever seen before. It was the airport.

"Come on boys. Let's go." Mr. Jones walked in and bought three tickets. The two younger boys clung to the adult. So many people wandered there, and Ivan hid his face with a hint of misery. It seemed like forever before a nice sounding lady announced that they had permission to board. He got in a line while the boys clung to his shirt in a sense of fear. Finally, after what seemed like forever they got on the plane.

"Slave... I'm sc-scared..." Ivan said, and Toris nodded in return.

After a very long plane ride, where Ivan wept and Toris got sat on the whole time. It was rather annoying but he didn't want to face the wrath of his master and his fear of planes. They landed and Mr. Jones got a nice cab, and all three men were driven to a mansion.

The place was huge. Toris climbed out and went to the other side, opening the door for his master. As his master stepped out, the trunk unlatched and he went to the back, staring at the house the whole time in awe. He grabbed their small amount of belongings and went to the door.

"Mr. Jones... I need the key." He said to his elder after he parked the car. Mr. Jones nodded and fumbled in his pockets for a rusty old key. He unlocked the door and pushed it open. The inside of the mansion was amazing; a huge stairwell greeted them first.

"Here we go" The man said. "To your right is an old church hall your mother converted to satanic. To the left is the kitchen. Upstairs is a living room, a bedroom, and several always that I don't remember. Oh! There's this one guy, he's a real helping hand. His name is Herman." Mr. Jones laughed nervously. "I'll make you two dinner, just why don't you settle in?" The man wandered off before the two boys could say anything.

"Yeah! Come on Manikin. This is a new home! Isn't it exciting?" He giggled "Now let's get us a room with a nice big bed." He said happily. "And we can snuggle all night and mommy won't get mad at-..." His face hung. "Mommy..."

"It's alright master... she probably went to hell. She'll be happy there." Toris smiled softly and kissed his chin, and walked by his side. Ivan wandered with a pouting face, making sad whimpering noises at times.

"I'm sorry master... I was sad when my dad died...too."

Glancing over, Ivan gave his slave a sympathetic look. However, it was coated over with the icy remnants of his own selfish sorrow which kept him distant from the genuine pity a normal human should feel. He patted Toris on the head gently and smiled. "I'm sure your daddy is happy in hell too."

Toris gritted his teeth and ducked away. "My father wasn't a bad man." He tried to explain in a calm tone. "He didn't go to hell. He would have gone to heaven."

"You're an orphan. You wouldn't know." The man-child sneered. "Know your place slave." He went on, and suddenly his hand flew on its own and struck his slave across the face. Red blossomed on Toris' cheek and spread out in the shape of a handprint. "Stupid slave." Ivan hissed.

From the corner of his eye, Toris saw Mr. Jones watching them. He made no move to reprimand Ivan, but a look of sadness touches his eyes ever-so-slightly. "Hey..." His clear voice echoed in the cavernous mansion. "Why don't you two take a look around. Pick out rooms for yourselves."

Sticking out his lower lip, Ivan loudly stated: "Manikin is sleeping with _me."_ He then giggled dementedly, and the deformed side if his face crinkled where it neared his mouth. Toris eyed it, no longer with disgust but with mere annoyance.

Mr. Jones didn't seem bothered at all by the prospect of Ivan sleeping with Toris, but he did seen a bit wary of Toris sleeping with Ivan. "Just make sure Manikin behaves." He warned in a darker, more fatherly tone than usual. As _if_ Toris would try anything on a demented, man-sized child! As if he could set his standards so low as to even bear any amount of affection for the creature who stole everything he ever had!

Instead of saying any of that, Toris merely smiled pleasantly and nodded. "Of course I'll behave, Mr. Jones." He swayed slightly and made a curtsying motion. The demon inside him giggled, feeling pleasure at mocking the elder man, but Mr. Jones took no heed of the slave's sass. Merely nodding, he went into the kitchen and started making himself food - Toris had no idea why the kitchen was stocked - which was a gross sandwich full of meat and greasy products.

"Hungry, master?" Toris inquired softly. "I'll make you something too, if you would like..." He figured that Ivan couldn't ask for anything fancy at the moment, since they just moved in. Besides, who wants fine culinary at bedtime anyways?

Luckily, Ivan did decline. Instead, he merrily requested, "Come to bed with me Manikin!" and took Toris' wrist in his large hand roughly, pulling him up the stairway.

The whole home, although smaller than the first mansion, was just as beautiful. Old flower pots say outside every windowsill with overgrown lavender and morning glory, the petals wilted and tired beneath the obsidian sky. Ancient wall paper flecked every hallway, depicting cute animals and innocent boys playing with toy trains, and every now and again a pillar with an art sculpture would appear. The art was more disturbing than anything else Toris saw - of course, he and Ivan didn't venture into Mrs Braginkis satanic church room - depicting skeletal figures and moaning faces, writhing in agony and self-resentment. It really bothered Toris. However, the overall beauty of the Victorian-style decor seemed to make up for the freakish ugly aspects of the house.

After not very long, a matter of minutes really, Ivan stopped in front of a wide room with a Queen-sized bed displayed through the opened door. It was a shade of chalky blue, and looked as soft as lambs wool. There was an ancient dresser standing grandly beside the bed, and above it there rested three shelves. Upon each shelf, a multitude of what appeared to be hand-carved music boxes rested. Ivan smiled wide and strolled into the room. He bent over and ran his fingers across the aged, gray carpet, then stood up and touches the flawless surface of the wall. "Here," a whisper fluttered from his lips, so soft and monotonous it was as if he were seized by a trance. "This here will be our room..."

There was a small bookshelf leaning against the right wall of the room, which brightened Toris up somewhat. It felt like he hasn't read in forever. "It's a nice room, master." He commented dully as he made his way over to the books and pulled a thin childish-looking one out and held it in his hand. It looked like a fairytale. He smiled; he loved having older people read those to him as a child. "What's _that_?" Ivan snapped behind him. His voice sounded grouchy all of a sudden, and when Toris

peeked over his shoulder he saw that his face was just as much. "Pay attention to your master.

Sighing, Toris dusted the book off and rose to his feet. "Excuse me, sir..." He mumbled in apology, glancing down at the book still and trying to read the title. The leather was too marred to make it out anymore. "Master..." Before Toris could control himself, he was asking, "May I read to you?"

It was like neither of them were thinking before their responses. Mechanically, Ivan said "Yes." although Toris wasn't sure the child was even sure what reading was. "I'd like that...very much, Manikin." He hummed and patted the mattress, causing dust to flutter up into the air, then spiral back down like gray snow. "Sit by me, though."

Doing as he was told, Toris took a seat beside his master and began to recite the fairytale. It was an interesting story, about a girl named Everline, and a world of perfection.

"Everyone bore no flaws, and looked as perfect as queens, kings, and gods. However, one day a creature ventured into the perfect world who was horrifically ugly. His body was marred with strange scars and tattoos, his nose was wide and crushed against his face, and he was missing an eye and some of his toes. Naturally, he was shunned by the people, but, however, always helped those in need. Unfortunately, those he helped began to get flaws as well - none nearly as horrible, but little flaws all the same. After a while, the townspeople began enraged. Seeing the man as demon, they called for his head. Everline set out with the intention of assassinating him for the gold reward, but instead chanced upon him lamenting in front of a puddle of water. It saddened her so much that she turned away and left him there. The next morning, however, the man was caught. The townspeople strung him to a pole and threw fruit and feces at him. They beat him. Then, they burned him alive. Everline was the only person in the town who was sad. She was the only one who wept, and as the burnt body began to rid its self of the smoke surrounding it, the townspeople were overcome with mortification - every one of them turned just as ugly as the man. All...except for Everline. Now the blame was on her. They deemed her a witch and flogged her upon the same stone steps leading up to the dead mutant. She died. But as her blood dripped down the steps, the man opened his eyes and broke free if his scorched bonds. He went to her frozen body and kisses her lips. From then on, everyone became normal - not full of too much flaws, but not perfect in beauty - but the mutant chose to stay the same. Rather than let Everline pay the price to gain beauty he never had, he kisses her once more and breathes life into her body. She returned, the last perfect being - an angel - and he the last of the most flawed, but their hearts were so strong, and their minds so pure, that when they went hand in hand before an alter to request marriage, not a person made a sound that wasn't happy."

Toris smiled as he finished his story, setting the book on the black nightstand to the left of the bed. He looked up at his master. "There. Did you like that?" Passion bubbled inside him, an after effect he got from gaining aloud.

Instead of looking joyful, Ivan had tears in his eyes. Toris supposed it was because he'd never heard a _real_ fairytale before, one that handing been watered down for babies, but then again Ivan killed people so the violence shouldn't affect him this way.

Perturbed, Toris asked, "Master, what's the matter? Your face is red... Are you okay?" and he laid his slender fingers upon Ivan's skull and pressed them into the sensitive skin. It was indeed warm but it didn't feel like a fever.

"F-fine..." Ivan replied shakily, the little tears creeping down his face. He stares at his hands, which were balled fists in his lap, then brought one to his face to wipe the tears and finger the deformed side of his face. "Ugly..." He murmured. "Manikin! I have a command for you!" Ivan's voice suddenly skyrocketed.

Squeaking, Toris flinches a bit and sighed. "Yes, sir? Anything you want." He watched Ivan wipe the remains of the tears away from his face.

"Kiss me."

Silence filled the empty spaces, and Toris bowed his head respectfully.

"Master... I don't think your dad would like it if I wa-" Toris was interrupted but a hard blow to the face.

"It's because you think I'm ugly! Well I am ugly. Like that man. But you don't love me like Everline. That's why I made you just as ugly as me." The boy sneered, Toris' calloused hands touched the scar on his face, that blinded him completely in is left eye. Sorrow crossed his features and Ivan growled.

"Stop being so sad slave!" Ivan's fist started to fly down upon him, and Toris snickered, and grabbed his wrist with super human strength. The child gasped, and fear crossed his own violet eyes. A cackle formed deep in the slaves throat and he grabbed his other wrist, crushing them as the master began to cry.

"M-Manikin! Come back Manikin. Y-you're scaring me! Stop! Please let Manikin come back..." The child wailed.

Something caught Toris' eye, and he looked up.

A mirror. He dropped his master, who fell with a shaking thump. But Toris was too bent on looking into that mirror.

His face looked that of an animal. His neck was twice it's normal length, and it was as if he had fur made of his own flesh, arched in a menacing way. His mouth looked like it was slit to the back of his skull, and fangs protruded out, sharp canines on every tooth. His eyes looked as if they were clouded over in red, showing nothing but the embodiment of blood of those children he killed...

His hands were claws, nails sharp as a cats. He looked taller, as if his body had become longer and slimmer like a sausage dogs.

"Master..." He looked back at Ivan in horror. "Is this what I look like?!" He shouted in fear.

"Nyet. I smash mirrors. They show...what the demon has really done to me. Who... we really are now." The boy sadly walked to the mirror, and stood in front of it.

"Aren't I hideous?" The master stated. Peering in, he saw nothing in Ivan's violet eyes. His nose became longer and slimmer, and his head became rounder."I have a macaw in me. That's my demon. Yours...looks like a ferret...demon. They control us... at times..." Ivan hung his head. But Toris was still registering the monstrosity he had become, and tears fell from his eyes. Tears the colour of blood.

"Why...why did you do this to me?!" He screamed at Ivan. The boy flinched hard and bowed his head. "I wanted to die! I needed to, I don't want to be here, on this earth, a slave! I wanted to be free, and now...I'm a monster. A disgusting monster that loves to ki-" a scream erupted from his throat, and he clutched his unbeating heart. Tears burst forth and he wept. Shaking and crying.

"Manikin... Be nice to your demon. OR he'll hurt you." Ivan touched his hair softly and hummed a sad tune. Ivan kissed his cheek and wrapped his arms around the slave.

"Little John from the big castle

Plays with the little boy

Snip, snip, snip

off goes his head

Bright red, Bright red

Little John from the big castle

Plays with the little girl

Stab, stab, stab

She loses her sight

Bright white, Bright white

Little John from the big castle

Found another friend

Slash, slash, slash

Straight through his tummy

Out his sides

Red and yummy."

"Mommy sang that all the time. I'm not the first generation of Scissorman... twenty generations of Braginskis. The thirteenth...was the first. His daddy... Quinten, betrayed and murdered his son. It's said their corpses are buried here somewhere...in the mansion. Quinten is a shame for betraying his son and our family cult... Natalia and I... were the first who murdered to live." He sighed.

"The first of us was Theodore who was part of a demonic cult who praised a God called "Great Father" and was very afraid of death. So he would abduct children within the country of England and use them in demonic rituals, sometimes included cannibalism and massacre; cause believed that he would gain immortality by doing so. However, this only left a curse within the Braginkis family: for each generation of the Braginskis, a demonic child would be born into the family and continue the massacre Theodore had started many years ago... It's very sad. Scissorman started thirteen generations later. Heh, thirteen..." Ivan hung his head. He was obviously saddened by the fate of his family.

"So...you're... It's been like this for years? That's... scary...children...innocent children..."

"Uh huh. And now every generation we're born demonically. Nata and I were supposed to. But it didn't work, and we were going to die. But in the end, we achieved immortality... Well I did at least..."

Toris sat there for a few sad moments. He never knew... That Ivan had no choice in the matter...

He pulled the boy closer and kissed him gently on the lips.

Ivan stiffened up and blanched, not knowing what to do. It was obvious he hasn't been expecting the kiss, and his eyes closed in bliss upon gaining it.

After a brief moment, Toris pulled away. He stared down, waiting for a reaction and unsure of whether it would be a violent one or not. "M-master..." He rasped shakily, meekly, eyes flickering up to meet his.

Bright lavender connected with red, seeming to tie together the two boys in eternal knots. Ivan then proceeded to turn bright pink, and, as if he didn't understand himself, a wry, cautious smile crept across his face. "Manikin..." He said, barely audible. "...thank you..."

The slave just nodded his head quietly and looked away again. Why _had _he kisses Ivan anyways? Toris' heart felt very light and fluttery, and his throat tightened as he choked back tears once more. He knew that if he cried, Ivan would hit him though, so he tried to hold it in.

"...I-I feel funny inside."

"So do I."

Whispers echoed in the old and unused room, and Ivan experimentally tugged his slave nearer to him, and held Toris' frame to his chest. He slowly rocked Toris in his arms like one would a baby, and ran his hand down Toris' own scar very softly, only the fingertips brushing it. "I'm so glad I didn't kill you..." He murmured and he shut his eyes.

Feeling awkward, Toris pulled himself away. "M-me too..." He was barely able to choke out. His voice felt incredibly dry and the demon inside him seemed to be laughing at him. Ivan suddenly looked so beautiful, and it made no sense at all to the young slave. The obscenities that marred one side of the child's face became broken pieces of a marvelous piece of art, and the normal side became an innocent angel, glowing in the light of Toris' adoring gaze.

It was the demon. It had to be the demon causing Toris to feel this way, otherwise he was completely insane on his own. Toris tried to fight the demon within him and push it from his mind, but it only gave him a headache so he soon gave up. He wouldn't allow the demon to win completely, however. He figured it could control his thoughts and make him think Ivan was perfect, but it couldn't control his actions and make him kiss Ivan again. It couldn't...could it? He sighed, feeling so conflicted.

"Remember that time I had you sleep in my bed," Ivan was suddenly speaking, "and mommy came in the next morning and saw you laying on me and dragged you away, punished you?"

Toris bit his lip and nodded. He remembered all too well.

"W-well..." The demonic child leaned back so that his head rested against the headboard. "mommy punished me for that too." Toris didn't say anything, since he knew Mrs. Braginskaya had indeed struck her sons face for claiming he loved his slave. "She made Ivan lie down and she hit him with a belt. Maneken was in the attic then, she'd just taken him there..."

A frown crosses Toris' features. He hadn't known this. Mrs. Braginskaya seemed to love Ivan too much to hurt him...but she loved Natalia more. Toris felt his lungs dry up.

Continuing, Ivan said quietly, "S-so whenever Maneken acted like I was so selfish when I saw him again, it made Ivan feel bad. So Ivan didn't stop hurting Maneken."

Toris voiced no words of regret - he knew the past was in the past - but he sincerely wondered that if he had acted more welcome to Ivan if he would have been spared beatings, and becoming a demon. A sigh made its way through its nostrils. "I was...starving...though..." He muttered in defense.

"Well mommy left marks on Ivan's back and butt! And some of them never went away. Now Ivan's even uglier than he started out..." Sinking into his pink scarf a little bit, Ivan allowed tears to bud in his lavender eyes. His body quivered slightly, reminding Toris of Raivis. "Then, in the bath, Maneken didn't even notice. And after Maneken went insane and hit Ivan...but Ivan wasn't _as _mad as he should have been...because half the blood was spilt by mommy; Ivan just let it dry there on his skin." The man-child laughed darkly.

It was hard for Toris to believe, still, that Mrs Braginskaya would beat her son, and he bit his lip. "I-I'm sorry..." He whimpered softly, not sure how to react to what he was hearing. He felt a little sick to his stomach, and drew his legs up to his chest, holding them.

"You don't believe me?" Ivan asked, and his voice was ice. His arm pulled back to hit his slave in the face.

Screeching, Toris shrank backwards and held his hands up defensively. "N-ne, ne, master! I believe you!" He yowled, but Ivan's hand struck his forehead anyways. It stung, and Toris thought he felt the top of his scar swell a bit. "M-master!" Tears appeared in his cranberry eyes.

"Stupid, selfish Maneken! How dare you call me a liar!" Another blow fell, again on Toris' scar, and then a third made the whole thing puff up. The slave started crying in agony, curling into a tiny and tight ball.

Ivan began to fumble with his own shirt to take it off. "I'll show it to you! I'll prove it to you!" Eyes siltted with insolence, Ivan tore the fabric from himself and wadded it in his fist, chucking it at the wall. He then proceeded to turn, facing away from Toris with his legs tucked up beneath him. "Look! Look, I'm not a liar!" His desperate voice demanded.

Sniffling and wiping tears softly, Toris peeked through his fingers and looked up at his master's backside. Indeed, as Ivan had said, there were marks - scars - that would likely never go away. Long, rectangular, pink strips laced the child's skins where the implement he'd been struck with cut too deep. Toris _almost _felt sorry for him, until he remembered the scars Ivan had left on _his_ back, and remembered that his were ten times worse.

_So he didn't speak a word. _

A desperate voice broke the silence. "See them Maneken? Aren't they awful?" Ivan asked in a whimper. He tilted his head over his shoulder to peek at Toris, searching his eyes for empathy.

he slaves eyes were cold. "That's _nothing _compared to what you've done to me, master." Teeth gritted together, he spat each of bitter words out like they were poison. "You need to grow up and realize your pain doesn't matter to the world! Just like mine doesn't." The demon inside him was speaking for him now, and it hummed with satisfaction in his chest at the angry words it produced.

Plump tears formed in Ivan's shocked eyes but they didn't fall. He looked genuinely hurt, wounded; he clutches his chest where the nail of Toris' reality had driven through. "I-I'm only e-eight..." He whispered.

Toris laughed darkly in response and retorted, "You're only _pathetic_." and then, with venom sizzling within his veins, he pounced on top of his master.

"N-no slave, stop...stop...STOP!" Ivan screamed at the top of his lungs, and plunged his hands into Toris chest, and a screech of pain was sounded, Toris gasped as he felt Ivan's hands touch the demon slithering inside his body.

"M-master...What are you doing to me? Please..."

"Ivan doesn't want Toris to hurt him. You got to stop hurting me...Or I will tear you out of your host and kill you. Stop hurting my family, got it? I'll...Bring kids and Toris will eat them up. That'll be all he'll get, so you'll be fed and happy and leave us alone." Ivan squeezed the demon, earning a cry of pain from Toris.

"Y-yes! Fine, whatever! Stop master! Stop..." Ivan removed his large hands and sighed.

"I'm sorry Toris, but you gotta eat the kids now. Like Nata did. Demons like them alive...So from now on, I'll collect the kids and lock them up in the attic... One at a time until they die...and you can eat them limb by limb... I'll keep them intact for you slave. Your demon needs to become passive."

"No! Master! I can't eat people! Please, no...no don't make me master..." He sobbed "That's cannibalism. No..."

"Shut up slave! I don't care about what you say about it, you're doing that." And with that, Ivan rose and walked from the room. He walked down the stairs and outside.

"Master! Please, no!" Toris cried, weeping.

"Toris, shut up. You probably won't even remember it." Ivan rolled his eyes and shoved the boy to the ground. "Stay. Be a good boy. Kay?" Ivan turned out the gates and left in search of a kid.

Toris kicked and screamed onto the cement, tears pouring like a hot rage before he stormed inside and ran to the kitchen. He shook and fell, laying on the kitchen tile and curled into himself. Weeping.

_'You're so weak little Toris.'_

Hours later, Ivan came back with an unconscious boy, about his age. Bruises were around his neck and Ivan smiled.

"Here's your fresh new meal slave, his name is Angel. He sounds yummy." Ivan laughed and grabbed his slave's hair, pulling him and the meal boy into the attic.

"Ah. Look. The last Scissorman family left chains and clamps up here..." Ivan laughed softly and chained the Angel boy down. The boy had a thick mop of hair, and started to blink awake.

"No...Mommy! Mommy!" Angel started screaming, and Ivan frowned.

"Let's start with... his tongue." Ivan giggled and plunged his hand into the wailing boys mouth, and gripped his tongue, tearing it out with his bare hands. Screams sounded from the boy as blood leaked out of his mouth. Ivan tore strips of cloth from Angels shirt and stuffed it into his mouth. The boy wailed and cried.

Toris just stared in horror at him.

"Master-"

"Eat up slave. It's so yummy, da~?" Tears fell from Toris' Eyes as the tongue was stuffed viciously into his mouth. The boy chewed the tongue miserably and swallowed. It disgusted him to think it didn't taste half bad. Ivan stood and smiled sweetly, and placed his hand inside Angels sobbing mouth, and patted his head as the wound healed. Then he walked down and left, walking down the steps to his room, leaving Toris with his food.

"I'm so sorry..."

Through Toris' ruby eyes, the world was bathed in gray. Gray walls and gray chains restraining a gray-faced little child with gray tears flowing from the sockets in his head. A chill wracked Toris' body, but the demon inside of him writhed in pleasure and forced him to step nearer to the trembling shape of he boy. Toris felt as though he were dying on the inside - would the killing never stop?

The slack jaw of the tiny imprisoned angel quivered and sputtered incoherent words. It tried to beg for its life. Its face was distorted into agony and sorrow, longing, pleading: _Stop! Stop! Oh god, it hurts! Help me, mommy! Mommy..._ The words rang in Toris' ears as if they were really being said.

_Don't be a pussy, Toris._ The demon growled into his host's brain saucily. Eat the brat or Ivan will kill us both.

Aloud, the slave screeched, "No! I can't do it! Please, God, get this thing out of me!" He started pounding on his chest madly, and poking his fingers into it, jabbing at his demon and gasping at the pain it caused himself to feel.

The ferret beast took control of him shortly. Toris could hear but no longer feel. He had eyes but the vision was not his. He saw his hands brush across his prey's skin, and heard the garbled screams of the child. His own hands took the boy's wrist in their grasp and held it prisoner while his mouth descended and his lips trapped a finger. The sickening sound of his teeth slowly searing off the Angel-boy's soft, succulent flesh disgusted him.

_This is what strength is._ The demon yowled, moving on to another finger and ripping it of everything except the bone; it was ignorant to the screams of the innocent boy. This is what power is.

Guilt tore at Toris' dead gray heart and seemed to press upon his lungs with the deadly weight of a stone anvil. He could feel his mind slipping under a black curtain, a veil of darkness. _No...this is what...true weakness is... _He thought, head swimming and likely making little to no sense. This is what...evil is.

He descended into a world of emptiness, and the screams and sights of gore were gone. He felt like an ant trapped inside an empty anthill - once a grand castle bustling with workers, now a deserted shell of dirt and clay. Faintly, he thought he could feel the demon, but then again it could have just been his imagination.

With an innocent sigh, Toris tried to move. He found that, within this empty anthill, he was in control of himself. He couldn't see, no, but his body felt. It brushed against walls of darkness and felt grooves and smooth rises. The world felt soft and vulnerable beneath his trembling fingertips... To either side of him, he heard heavy, raspy breaths being heaved in and out in unison. He self the objects, and determined then to be ovular shaped balloons. Then, above himself he felt the presence of something. Toris reached up and came into contact with something cold, wet, and dead-feeling. It was horrid.

Suddenly, a feeling of déjà vu slammed into Toris' senses. He knew that feeling. He started to poke and prod around the object more, and wrap himself about it. It was so lonely...broken-feeling and empty, but all the same it was something absolutely sinful.

A light stabbed through a thin cut in front of Toris' face, and the object he had become fascinated with. Slowly, with fear catching in his throat, Toris took a hold of either side of the cut and pulled it apart. He then realized his predicament: through the fabric of his own shirt, he could see the child screaming in the background. Toris was imprisoned, like the demon...inside himself!

The slave wished more than anything that he could scream and let loose his lamentations, but such was impossible. Instead, the disheveled piece of Toris that was a prisoner to his own wretched body slithered to the corner where it hid in the darkness and pretended to weep.

After a while, the boy ebbed back to his senses. The demon was back where it belonged, and he was back where he belonged. Gasping and thanking The Lord, Toris fell upon his knees and grinned.

A drop of something wet splashed upon his cheek, distracting him from his praising. The Angel-boy was bleeding severely. Half of his face had been chewed off - the left side - and he resembled a darker-haired, more innocent version of Ivan. In addition, the child's fingers were missing and there was a large gash in his chest where Toris had torn him open and...and eaten his heart.

"No...oh god no..."

Chains swayed in the room, sending melancholy creaks to echo throughout the room.

"I murdered...a child..."

Ivan was in their bedroom, trying to read the book Toris had read to him earlier, and sipping a cup of tea, when Toris found him. The first thing the slave did was to break into sobbing, his thin shoulders heaving up and down pathetically and his whole frame quivering. The tears soaked his blood-stained face and ran down past his chin, splashing onto the carpet in an awful mingled pink shade.

"Oh good, Maneken. It's time for bed; you took so long." The scissor man sighed merrily upon seeing him, and stood up to set the book and his tea on the bedside table. "You're filthy, so go wash up and then we can sleep together." He went towards Toris, as if meaning to tap his shoulder and encourage him to rise.

Instead, the slave threw himself at Ivan's feet. He wrapped the whole length of his arms around Ivan's ankles and squeezed them while resting his blood-stained face against his bare foot and continuing to cry. "Oh God... Master, please kill me! Kill me master! I can't live anymore! The demons too strong! I don't deserve to live!" He screamed.

Frowning, Ivan bent down and ran his thick, clumsy fingers through Toris' hair. "Now, don't be silly-" He started.

"NE! I'm not being silly! Kill me, damn it, Ivan! You created me...you made me this horrible thing! Kill me or I'll...I'll stab myself in the heart and kill that fucking thing and take me with it! Please- gah!" Pain struck him in his chest and the demon began to hurt him for saying such things, but he didn't care. Once he was dead, there would be no more pain for him or anyone he came into contact with.

For a few seconds, Ivan just stared at Toris with cold, sad eyes; an abandoned baby bird in a viscous storm. "I...I can't k-kill you..." He murmured hoarsely. "I...I love you..." Hands sought Toris' face and lifted it from the ground and thumbs caressed his teary cheeks. "I love you..."

Screaming, Toris ripped himself away, and shoved his master. "Can't you see how much pain I'm in?!" He choked, falling to his hands and knees as the demon caused a stabbing pain to flare up in his abdomen. He wailed. "God!" He called for his savior once more, but no help came. "You don't love me!" The snarl came out of his lips, viscously, and his eyes turned dark and animalistic on Ivan. "Kill me, or I'll try to hurt you...and then you'll have to kill me. You promised." He laughed then, and stood up, shakily.

For some reason the demon didn't object. In fact, it seemed to be snidely laughing at Toris' violent threats, and it relished the look of shock and horror on Ivan's face.

"Maneken...s-stop...you don't want to die..." Pulling his scissors up from the side of the bed, Ivan held them in front of himself protectively. "Stop...M-Maneken I love you! I-I do! Maneken! Toris!" The child's voice grew higher and higher pitched the closer Toris slunk, like a wicked snake sneaking up upon his prey. He slowly rose his head up in front of Ivan and swayed it to and fro, tears rushing down, quivering. "Y-you're just sad! Stop! T-that's an order! Be g-good and I'll treat you better."

"Liar! You say that all the time! We go in c-circles and I have no peace! My life...my life is nothing but an endless circle of torture!" Toris lashed out, and Ivan moved the blades of the scissors in the way of the blow, causing him to cut his arm. He didn't seem to mind as dark red sprayed out, and didn't even seem to feel it. In his eyes, everything was still gray. All the horrid gray...

"Kill me...or I'll do to you what I did to that weak little girl I murdered." He reached into his chest and squeezed the demon. It bit his hand, adding to the pain he was already receiving, shooting up his spine, from squeezing it. "Kill...m...me...or...else..." He tried to advance onto Ivan's blood stained scissors once more, lusting for the blades to pierce his chest and deliver him into heaven's arms.

But Ivan threw the blades away and stood up, stiffly, before Toris. Their eyes met, and for once the crazed look was possessed by the slave and not the master. "I won't kill you, Toris." Ivan stated blatantly. "And you won't hurt me. You're _my_ slave. You'll always be my slave. You can never escape from me."

Fury boiled up inside Toris' stomach. "I...I won't...I refuse to be a slave forever!" He yelled, eyes rolling up into the back of his head from the unbearable, agonized weight of his demon. "I-I refuse...you...you ought to see how it feels!"

With that, he fell to his hands and knees once more, crawled to the bathroom, and locked himself in after slamming the door. Placing his fingers over his head, he tried to come to terms with himself, and what he was willing to do to be liberated from the prison that was his flesh and bones.

**If I wrote a story with cannabilism, and made Russia force Lithuania to eat human 27/7 in many elaborete ways, would any of you read it? _I'm pretty sure not._ But I want to for some reason. I need my phone back so I can write this at other places than school. :/**


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